


By Any Other Name

by LoriLee (cowgirl65)



Category: Big Valley
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Angst, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Half-Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-28
Updated: 2011-08-15
Packaged: 2017-10-21 21:11:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 25,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/229891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowgirl65/pseuds/LoriLee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>response to a challenge on another board.  What if Tom Barkley and Leah Thomson's child was a daughter?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own any television show and make nothing from writing this other than cheap thrills

“How long have you been working here?” Jarrod asked of the voluptuous blonde as he quickly removed his clothing.

“About… about a week,” she stammered, a bit intimidated by the incredible Barkley reputation and the even more incredible male organ she saw unsheathed in front of her.

Jarrod wasted no time in settling himself on the bed and spread her inviting thighs to kneel between them. “Well,” he said with a ravishingly sexy smile, “I’ll tell you what’s going to happen. First,” and he grabbed his engorged flesh to graze her entrance, “I’m going to ram this hot piece of Barkley beef in you so hard you scream.” His words were a bit alarming to the young whore, but the sultry tone in which they were said sent a surge of heat between her legs. She looked into brilliant blue eyes that were gleaming devilishly.

“Then I’m going to fuck you so thoroughly you’ll be begging me for mercy.”

Her breath quickened as he leaned over and took her lips in a fiery kiss and his tongue took possession of her mouth as his manhood pressed against her.

“You might not walk straight for a few days,” Jarrod whispered playfully in her ear and his tongue darted out to caress the soft lobe, “but I guarantee you’ll never have a better time. We can keep going as long and hard as you need and I promise I won’t give up until you’re thoroughly satisfied.” He positioned himself above her and gazed at her intently. “Are you up for it?”

She nodded, unable to speak. Jarrod’s fingers slipped down to find the blonde dripping wet and he pinched her clit slightly to make her gasp. All of a sudden, she felt a powerful force as Jarrod rammed his cock inside her, not stopping until his pelvis hit hers. He was so big, she felt like she might split in two and a whimper escaped her parted lips as he held himself there.

“I think you need a moment to adjust,” he said with wicked enjoyment, “so while we wait…” He took a rosy nipple in his mouth, biting and sucking as he kept himself pressed hard inside her. The incredible fullness gradually changed from discomfort to increasing pleasure and she found herself wanting more.

Jarrod sensed it and he pushed himself up on his arms to gaze at her, blue eyes dark with lust. “About what I said before,” he murmured, his deep baritone sending shivers up her spine, “I do like it rough.” He pulled back until just the tip of his penis remained inside her and then plunged into her again. “But I have no intention of hurting you, and if it gets to be too much, all you have to do is say so.” He slammed into her yet again and she moaned.

“Oh, god, I’ve never felt anything so incredible…”

Jarrod smiled and settled his weight on top of her, pushing her thighs further apart as he continued to pound into her hot pussy. He loved a good fuck, always had, and now it was the one thing that could truly keep the memory of his slain wife out of his mind. It seemed as though the blonde appreciated it too from the way she had her legs wrapped around him and was gripping his back. Her body bucked beneath him as he continued his assault.

Jarrod prided himself on his self-control and it was the rare time that he didn’t take his partner to climax at least once before he succumbed himself. He closed his eyes and revelled at being encased in that hot tightness as his hips continued their punishing rhythm.

“Come on, baby,” he encouraged, “cum for me. I want to feel it, beautiful, I want to feel you cum around me.” He pushed himself up again, maintaining his momentum as he once more took her breast between his teeth and ravished it with his tongue and lips. Balancing on one arm, Jarrod slid the other under her knee and pulled it up to penetrate even deeper.

“Oh!” she cried. “Oh, my god!” Her cries turned into a scream as her muscles convulsed wildly around him. The screams subsided into moans and the moans into whimpers as Jarrod continued to thrust into her. He kept assaulting her oversensitive flesh and didn’t give her a chance to come down from the height to which he’d taken her. He pounded away as the aftershocks of her orgasm squeezed his cock deliciously and feeling his penis swell even larger, Jarrod let go. He continued to thrust furiously as his balls tightened against the base of his shaft and he was overcome with waves of euphoria as he shot stream after stream of hot ejaculate deep within her. His world exploded in flashes of white-hot light before reality slowly pulled itself back together as his penis continued to pulse. Gulping in huge breaths of air, Jarrod stayed buried within her until he eventually came back to himself and his manhood softened and slipped out of its own accord.

Jarrod moved off slowly and took in the delicious sight of her swollen lips and the flush on her face that extended down her neck and across her chest. Knowing he could do that to a woman was an incredible turn on for the lawyer. He felt his member twitch again and wondered if she would be up for another round. If she was, he was definitely up for it as well and could go all night, morning meetings be damned.

*

“You drive a hard bargain, Jarrod.” The tall, urbane man stood from his chair and extended his hand. Jarrod shook it with a self-satisfied expression on his face.

“Anything I can do to keep my clients happy, Nat,” he told his former classmate. “And I think Cal Percy is going to be very happy with this agreement.”

Nat Springer shook his head ruefully. “I told my client not to expect miracles when I found out you were representing the other side,” he said with a chuckle. Jarrod walked him to the door and Springer retrieved his hat from the coat stand. “Why don’t you buy me a drink?’ the other lawyer suggested slyly. “I think I’ll need it when Adamson fires me.”

Jarrod chuckled. “Other plans, Nat. See you around.” He closed the door behind the other man and returned to his desk with a sense of satisfaction. Springer’s smug demeanour irked him and there was a personal sense of accomplishment in besting the man.

Jarrod sat and made sure everything was in order for tomorrow’s court appearance. Then, as had happened that day more times than he could count, Jarrod’s mind wandered back to the previous night and the soft curves of the woman who had pleasured him until the wee hours of the morning. He shook his head as his body responded to the remembered images and he had to readjust his growing erection when it was pinched by the seam of his pants.

She was just another good lay, he told himself, only one of many women he’d paid for physical satisfaction and release since the death of his wife. He picked up the picture from his wedding to Beth and looked sadly at her lovely face. He thought back to their wedding night just over a year ago and how Beth trembled as he took her virginity as gently as he could. Nothing like the wild sex of the night before.

Jarrod closed his eyes as the image of his wife’s sweet body was replaced with the generous curves and golden tresses of the whore writhing beneath him, crying his name, urging him harder and faster as the night went on. She’d seemed a bit shy at first, but the blue-eyed beauty had quickly responded to Jarrod’s voracious carnal appetite. The rough and almost brutal sex was a far cry from the genteel lovemaking of his brief six days of married life. Not that he hadn’t enjoyed being with Beth and teaching her of the pleasures of the bedroom, but Jarrod wondered if she would ever have enjoyed the kind of fucking he had indulged in last night.

Jarrod chastised himself and gripped Beth’s portrait tighter. What was he doing, comparing his beloved wife to a common whore? _But she isn’t common,_ a little voice told him, _or you wouldn’t be getting a hard-on just thinking about her._

 _Shut up,_ he told the voice as he turned back to his paperwork and tried to ignore the burning in his groin. But when he left his office for the day, Jarrod’s feet took him toward a certain house at the edge of the waterfront district and he stood for a long while, gazing at one of the upstairs windows before finally going inside.

“Jarrod,” the elegantly coifed madam gushed, “this is a surprise. Two nights in a row?”

Jarrod gave her a dashing smile. “I couldn’t stay away,” he confessed. “I was wondering if…” Jarrod paused and for the first time, realized he didn’t even know the name of the woman he’d been fantasizing about all day. “If the girl I was with last night was available.”

The proprietress raised an eyebrow. “After what I heard from her room last night, I’m surprised she can even walk.” Jarrod had the grace to blush slightly. “I’ll go ask.”

She came back immediately with a smile and motioned for Jarrod to follow. “I think the other girls will be disappointed if you don’t spread your favors around,” she whispered as she opened the door for him, “I know I will.” A shiver went down Jarrod’s spine as her tongue darted out and lightly caressed his ear. He stepped inside and all else was forgotten as he saw the object of his desire standing there, clad only in a black lace corset and gartered lace stockings.

“Oh, god,” he groaned as his manhood swelled painfully, “you have no idea what you do to me.”

Her eyes strayed to the front of his pants. “I might have some idea,” she murmured and Jarrod strode over to her quickly, grabbing her tightly and taking her lips in a fevered kiss. Her hands slid down and unfastened his pants to let his magnificent erection loose. Jarrod moved, not letting go of her and pinned her against the wall. He lifted her until her entrance was positioned over his penis and thrust upward, impaling her violently on his shaft. Crushing her against the wall, Jarrod pounded into her, his tongue assaulting her mouth, fucking and fucking her until he exploded, continuing to plunge into her with short, sharp thrusts, almost blacking out as his knees crumpled and he sank to the floor, still holding her tightly in his lap.

“God, baby,” Jarrod moaned as he came back to himself and showered her face and lips with tiny kisses. “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t help myself…”

She reached up and smoothed back the lock of hair that curled over his forehead. “That’s all right,” she told him softly as she rested her head on his shoulder. “So are you planning to stay for a while? If so, you might be more comfortable without the suit.”

Jarrod chuckled as he realized he was still fully dressed, with the exception of his pants being undone and his softening manhood still inside her. “Are you sure you want me to stay?” he asked mischievously. His hands caressed her back as she tugged off his tie and her blue eyes gleamed.

“I think you said last night you wouldn’t give up until I was thoroughly satisfied,” she replied with a wicked smile of her own. Her fingers nimbly unbuttoned his vest and shirt as he unhooked her corset. She slid her hands underneath his shirt, running them over the firm muscle of his chest as his lips took hers, more gently this time, but no less passionately. Letting her go, Jarrod stood and reached down to remove his boots before pushing his pants off his hips. He jerked slightly in surprise when his softened member was suddenly engulfed in a moist warmth.

“I though it was my turn to pleasure you,” he groaned as she sucked him to hardness, her fingers grabbing his ass. Her lips left him as she stood and just smiled before she walked seductively over to the bed and sat to pull off her stockings. She spread her legs wide as she tugged the lace over her knee and Jarrod had a full view of her glistening wet lips. He saw the milky strands of his cum clinging to the tangled hair and quickly sank to his knees to lean forward and gently lick them off. He eyed the swollen bud at the top of her cleft and moved his tongue over it lightly before grabbing it with his lips and sucking hard.

She gasped as he thrust two fingers into her. Her muscles were already clenching as he drove them in again and again while his tongue continued to lavish her clit. As her body tensed, he felt the pulsing of her climax and relished the juices that came with it.

Jarrod straightened up as she relaxed and kissed her, her cum still on his lips. “Now, that doesn’t mean I’m giving up, unless you want me to.” She just laughed and put her arms around him, pulling Jarrod to lie on the bed beside her.

“You were right when you said I’d never have a better time,” she reminded him, “and don’t want anyone but you in my bed tonight.”

“What would you say to every night?”

She stopped in the midst of taking off his shirt, surprised. “What do you mean?”

Jarrod paused. He surprised even himself with that statement. What did he mean, indeed?

“I was wondering if you’d be willing to be my mistress,” he said slowly, thinking things through as he spoke. “That way, you never have to have anyone else in your bed and I can have you anytime I want.” He gazed at the blue eyes looking down on him, drawn to them. “I’ll provide you with a place to live and a substantial fee, you just have to provide me with yourself. And one other thing,” he added and pulled her down on him as she smiled.

“And what’s that?”

“You do have to tell me your name,” he said, blue eyes gleaming teasingly.

She laughed. “It’s Heather. Heather Thomson.”

Jarrod tucked the long strand of blonde hair that was tickling his chest behind her ear. “Does that mean you accept?”

Heather kissed him playfully. “I accept. Do we seal the agreement with a handshake?”

“I think we can find something much more meaningful than a handshake,” Jarrod suggested, his voice deep and sultry as he pulled her tightly to him, lips plundering hers, hands once more waking each of them to ecstasy.


	2. Chapter 2

She couldn’t believe her good fortune as she looked around the well-appointed apartment. Who back in her hometown would believe little Heather Thomson was now living in a place like this? She glanced down at the folded bills in her hand, more money than she’d ever seen in her life. Well, they probably would believe what she was doing to earn this lifestyle, she thought cynically. A whore’s daughter was a whore herself, they always told her. She remembered coming home with more than one black eye or bloody nose when she found out what that meant, the parson’s daughter happy to spell it out for her. And when her mama died a few months ago, Heather stopped trying to be better than that and came to San Francisco, ending up working on her back just as everyone predicted.

She looked up from the money to the brilliant blue eyes of the man who had given it to her. “It’s too much, Jarrod,” she protested.

“Nonsense.” Jarrod took her hands in his. “To get the best, you have to pay accordingly. I expect you to use some of that to decorate and furnish this place as you see fit.” He kissed her passionately before eyeing her with a seductive gaze. “But I’ll tell you, I do have a fondness for silk sheets, fine wine and good scotch.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Heather started to unbutton his vest, but Jarrod pushed her hands away.

“Much as I’d love to, beautiful, I have a court date in an hour.” He pulled her close to take her lips again. “But I’ll be back as soon as the judge adjourns.”

Heather molded herself to his body. “Will you be hungry?” she whispered.

“What do you think?” Jarrod asked huskily as he pressed his growing heat against her.

“For food,” she corrected, laughing. “And I thought you had to get to court.”

Jarrod kissed her on the forehead as he stepped back and adjusted his pants. “Dinner would be wonderful,” he told her. He gave her a rakish wink as he left. “See you later.”

Heather wandered through the elegantly appointed sitting room, reflecting that there wasn’t much decorating that needed to be done since Jarrod had arranged for the apartment to be furnished. She perused the cupboards and made a mental note of what was there and what was needed. Heather prided herself on being a good cook; it had irritated her uncle’s wife to no end when Heather started helping out in the kitchen at the hotel and added to or changed what the other woman was cooking, actually getting compliments on the food and requests for seconds. Her Aunt Martha growled and grumbled and cuffed Heather a few times, but from them on, always asked for her husband’s niece to help out when there were customers, even though she took the credit for the food herself.

Heather didn’t know how to do anything terribly fancy, but she was sure she could come up with something Jarrod would appreciate. She went to grab her hat and bag and wondered how much money she would need and what to do with the rest. She didn’t have a bank account, never having enough to bother with before and wasn’t sure how to go about opening one. Besides, they’d probably want to know how she got all that money. Heather pulled out a few bills and tucked them into her bag before putting the rest into the pocket of her oldest skirt. It was good enough for now; she didn’t think it was a likely place for a thief to look.

A couple hours later, she retuned, laden with packages from her shopping. She quickly deposited the silk sheets and robe she’d found in Chinatown on the bed and put the bottle of chardonnay in the icebox before donning a large apron and rolling up her sleeves. Chopping the fresh tomatoes and herbs, Heather spread them on the salmon she’d had filleted at the market before putting it on a plank of wood that was soaking in the sink. It was a recipe she’d only recently learned from the man who cooked at the bordello. He claimed to have learned it from the Salish Indians when he was cooking in the logging camps up the coast and was happy to show her when she asked.

Some fresh mushrooms stuffed with cheese and more herbs, a fresh salad and the bottle of white wine chilling in the icebox and dinner was almost done. Leaving everything to cook, Heather went back to the bedroom and made the bed with the new sheets before undressing and then, clad only in the short silk robe, went out to set the table. She was just placing the last of the silverware when Heather heard the door open and she smiled as Jarrod paused in the entrance to the dining room and gave her a long, appreciative look.

“Dinner first, or dessert?”

Smiling seductively, Jarrod walked up and slid his hands onto her hips, taking another slow look. He leaned in to kiss her when they both heard a low growl and Jarrod straightened up, chuckling.

“Well, I was going to say dessert, but my stomach disagrees.”

Heather reached up and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “Dinner first, then.” In no time at all, she had the salmon whisked out of the oven and two plates made up. Jarrod opened and poured the wine and they sat down to dinner.

“This is incredible,” Jarrod told her after the first bite. “You’re going to spoil me.”

“Just making sure you get your money’s worth,” Heather told him with a smile. “Besides, I enjoy cooking.” The robe slipped off her shoulder as she reached for the wine and Jarrod was treated to a partial view of a tantalizing breast. He took a few more bites, then nonchalantly placed his free hand on her thigh and slipped it under the robe. His fingers brushed against the hair between her legs and he raised a seductive eyebrow.

“I was wondering if you had anything on under there. Now I know.”

“Dessert after dinner, remember?” Heather teased and then she squawked in surprise as Jarrod dragged her off her chair and on to his lap.

He nuzzled her neck. “I think dinner can wait. I’m sure it will be almost as good warmed up.”

“Mmmm,” she murmured into his ear as he unfastened the robe and pushed it open for better access. His lips moved down to take her breast while one hand slipped into her dripping pussy, rubbing against her clit until two fingers pushed inside. Heather rested her forehead on his shoulder and basked in the attention. She’d been with a lot of men during her short time in the city, but never had anyone made her feel like this. She moaned when Jarrod nipped at her neck. It was sure to leave a mark, but Heather didn’t care as his fingers fucked her harder and faster. “Oh, god, Jarrod,” she breathed, feeling the tension grow, and then it released in a wave to leave Heather shuddering and clenching in her climax. She clung to him and he kept his fingers tight inside her, not moving them until she relaxed.

“Maybe we should adjourn to the bedroom,” Jarrod suggested, a lustful gleam in his eye. Heather nodded, and moved to get up, but Jarrod gathered her into his arms and stood with one smooth motion. He carried her into the next room and laid her on the bed, stretching out beside her. His lips and tongue ravished her mouth as his hand found her breast to pinch and tweak her already taut nipple. Heather took off his tie and efficiently unbuttoned his vest and shirt, rolling him on to his back and straddling him so she could remove them more easily. Jarrod pushed the robe off her shoulders and it fell to the ground with a whisper. Heather let her lips travel down his neck, sucking on the taut nubs of Jarrod’s own nipples on her way down to his stomach. She unfastened his pants and Jarrod raised his hips slightly so she could pull them off, kissing her way back up the inside of his thigh until she reached the silky sac at the juncture of his legs. Jarrod let out a low moan as she caressed it with her tongue, licking up the length of his shaft before engulfing the head in her mouth.

“Oh, yeah, baby,” Jarrod groaned as she took in as much of his length as she could, “suck me hard.” Heather complied, sucking him in and out, working his penis with her lips and tongue. She took his balls in her hand and squeezed and fondled them as her mouth continued to pleasure him. She felt them tighten and Jarrod grabbed her head, twining his fingers in her hair as his hips thrust upward. Heather opened her throat to take him even deeper and Jarrod’s moans of ecstasy made the cum she swallowed with every pulse taste like the sweetest nectar. She held him in her mouth until the last shudder was finished and she felt him collapse into the mattress. She slid up beside him and Jarrod enfolded her in his arms.

“I don’t think you have to worry about me not getting my money’s worth,” he told Heather huskily, kissing her temple. “You are just the best little thing I’ve ever had in my bed.”

“It goes both ways,” she murmured back, running her hand over his hips and his stomach. “I don’t think anyone could ever say they had a job they enjoyed more.”

Jarrod chuckled before getting up and handing Heather her robe. “Well, a satisfied employee is a productive employee,” he told her with a wink as he donned his pants. “And I always plan to leave you satisfied. Now how about we finish dinner and then have a second helping of dessert?”


	3. Chapter 3

“Turn around,” Jarrod instructed huskily. Heather, already nude, did as he asked. Jarrod had arrived early in the morning and wasted no time in dragging her to the bedroom, kissing her ardently as he divested her of her clothes.

Jarrod trailed a hand down her back and briefly caressed her hip before taking hold of her wrist. She drew a sharp inhale as he grabbed the other and her hands were bound together with what felt like a silk scarf.

“Jarrod, what…?” But her question was cut off as he turned her head to bestow a gentle kiss on her lips.

“Trust me?” he asked, a seductive gleam in his eye and Heather nodded. She did trust him; or, at least she thought she did until another scarf was tied firmly around her eyes. “No peeking.”

Heather shivered as a thrill of fear ran up her spine. She’d never been this helpless before, even with the occasional beatings she’d received from her aunt and uncle. But Jarrod had never really hurt her, even though their coupling was generally on the rough side and he did seem to enjoy leaving little love bites across her body.

She gasped as Jarrod’s warm mouth took her nipple and sucked it before he gently but firmly pushed her down to her knees, her belly against what felt like the footrest of one of the room’s chairs.

“Don’t move.”

Heather did as she was told, the fear slowly being replaced by a growing desire.

“Open your mouth.” Heather did and tasted the sweet juices of a strawberry on her tongue. As she bit and swallowed, the strawberry was replaced with Jarrod’s mouth, his tongue pushing its way inside as his hand reached around the back of her neck, pulling her closer and her tongue took the opportunity to explore his. She almost jumped when he pinched her nipple, not expecting it and Jarrod pulled away quickly so he was no longer touching her. Heather was breathing heavily, wondering what he would do next and then something warm and hard was pushed between her lips. She tasted the juices on the tip of Jarrod’s penis as he slowly pressed further into her mouth. Lacing his fingers through her hair, Jarrod held Heather’s head as she sucked him, slowly thrusting in and out a few times before he again was gone.

“Jarrod…”

“Shhh…” Jarrod placed a finger to her lips. This was more fun than he’d imagined it would be. He was teasing himself as well, but the looks on Heather’s face were more than worth it. He really wasn’t sure what had prompted the idea and had almost stopped the game when he saw a brief look of fear flit across the blonde’s face as he covered her eyes with the blindfold. But when she returned his kiss with an equal fervor, he wickedly decided to keep playing.

Reaching into the glass he’d put on the table, Jarrod took out a chunk of ice and moved around behind her. He ran the ice down her spine and smiled at her shiver, bending over to kiss the joining of her neck and shoulder, trailing his lips down the path of the ice. He held the ice at the top of her buttocks, letting the cold water drip between her cheeks as his other hand reached around to tease her clit. Heather let out a low moan and Jarrod smiled.

“Like that, beautiful?” he murmured as his lips sucked harder on the skin of her back and left a trail of red marks in their wake. He moved his hand to fondle her breast and slipped the other between her legs to push the remaining ice against her hot pussy, making her gasp. “Too cold?’ he asked devilishly. “I suppose I’ll just have to warm you back up.” Taking his swollen cock in his hand, Jarrod was careful not to let it touch her until he was in position, plunging inside her with one hard thrust and Heather cried out in pleasure. “I’m glad this hot Barkley beef can still make you scream,” he whispered in her ear.

Jarrod leaned his weight on top of her, reaching around to grab her waist as his other hand continued to squeeze her breast. He pulled her tightly to him, relishing the feel of her ass pushed against his belly and having her tied hands trapped between them made the whole thing more erotic. His hand left her breast to grip the edge of the stool as he drove into her tight core, loving the moans and cries from the bound woman beneath him as he fucked her hard.

“Jarrod…” She breathed his name, rapture in her voice. “Oh, Jarrod, harder, please.”

Jarrod smiled and complied, ramming into her with all the force he could muster, feeling his own need building as forced her legs apart with his knees and his cock drove deeper inside her. He bent over as he felt the throes of her climax surge around his member and bit down on the juncture of her neck and shoulder, eliciting a primal moan from Heather. His balls drew up and he couldn’t hold back any longer. Jarrod bucked against her with enough force to lift her off the floor as he came hard, spurt after spurt of seed shooting out as his hips kept pumping.

“Oh, Heather,” he moaned as his orgasm finally let him go, clutching her to his chest tightly. Her head leaned back to rest against his shoulder and he released her long enough to tug the blindfold from her eyes. Blue met blue, still dark with desire and Heather tilted her head up to kiss him softly.

“I have to go back to Stockton for a bit,” Jarrod told her as he untied her hands, “so I thought I’d make sure you didn’t forget me while I’m gone.”

Heather laughed at the playful twinkle in his eyes. “I’ll try very hard to remember what you look like,” she teased back, licking her lips as she ran her gaze up and down his lean body. She reached up to the bed where her discarded clothes were lying, but Jarrod took hold of her hand and stopped it.

“I think this is the image I want to take with me,” he told her seductively. “Why don’t you lie down and relax?”

Heather did as he suggested, draping herself in a sensual posture across the bedcovers as Jarrod got dressed.

“Mmmm,” he murmured appreciatively as he took in her pose. “If only I could take a picture.”

“I guess you’ll just have to hurry back, then,” Heather suggested with a smile and Jarrod leaned over to kiss her, first one breast and then the other, finally kissing her lips.

“I’ll send you a message letting you know when I’ll be back in town,” he told her.

“I can’t wait.” Heather watched as he left the room and listened to the door of the apartment open and close before she leaned back and sighed in contentment.


	4. Chapter 4

“Hello, Mother,” Jarrod greeted brightly, walking over to give the silver haired woman a kiss on the cheek after setting down his valise.

“It’s good to have you home, Jarrod,” Victoria replied warmly and slipped her arm around him to give him a hug. It had been much too long since he’d been home, even though she understood his reasons for staying away. The past year had been hard for her son since his wife was killed and it was difficult for him to be in the home they’d shared for too brief a time, but that didn’t stop her from missing him. “Are you staying long?”

“Well, that depends,” and Victoria’s heart lightened at the playful glint in his eyes that had been absent for so long. “How long do you think you can stand me?”

“Jarrod, if you never left again, it wouldn’t be long enough,” she said sincerely. “It’s good to see you looking so relaxed.”

“I’m sorry if I’ve worried you at all, lovely lady,” he told her, hugging her again. “I guess I haven’t been around as much I should lately.”

“No, you haven’t,” Victoria scolded lightly, “but I’m very glad you’re here now,” and they walked companionably into the parlour.

“So, what’s been going on around here?” Jarrod asked as they sat on the sofa.

“The palomino mare foaled twins with Eugene’s help and Nick…” Victoria paused. She didn’t want to re-injure Jarrod’s newly healing heart, but knew he would find out soon enough. “Well, Nick’s been seeing the new schoolteacher, Carrie Scott. In fact, she’s coming to dinner tonight.”

Jarrod’s eyebrow arched and his expression held a glimmer of amusement. Victoria let out the breath she’d been holding and was thankful no shadow of pain was evident. “And how long has this been going on? Is it serious?”

“Oh, a couple months and yes, I do believe they are quite serious about each other.”

“Months?” Jarrod’s expression grew stern. “Now, why didn’t anyone tell me?”

Victoria took his hand. “Because, Jarrod,” she said softly, “we didn’t want to upset you. We didn’t want you to think of… well, to think of what you’d lost with Beth.”

Jarrod smiled a rueful smile. “I suppose I have been wallowing in self-pity, haven’t I? But no more,” he said firmly. “Life does go on and I’m sure Beth would want me to move on too. And I can’t wait to meet this woman who’s captured Nick.”

Squeezing his hand, Victoria watched her son carefully. It would be completely in character for Jarrod to mask his own feelings for what he perceived to be the good of his family. She reached out and touched his face. “You truly feel happier, don’t you, sweetheart?”

“I do, Mother.” Jarrod lips turned up in a slightly bittersweet smile. “I still think about her, but it doesn’t hurt as much as it once did.”

“You’ll never stop thinking about her,” Victoria said with the conviction of one who knew all too well. “I think about your father every day but you’re right, the hurt does lessen with time.” She patted his knee. “Now you probably want to go upstairs and unpack before dinner. I believe Nick is picking up Carrie for six o’clock.”

Jarrod nodded his agreement. “I’ll be down to greet them,” he assured her as he picked up his valise and headed upstairs. Unpacking his things, he selected a grey suit to wear for dinner rather than the casual tan jacket and pants he’d worn on the trip home. As he changed, he thought about the conversation with his mother. His outlook had changed from the bleakness of the past year and he smiled as he attributed his newfound contentment partly to Heather Thomson. He’d found some of the joy that had disappeared from his life in her warm smile and brilliant eyes, not to mention the pleasures of her body. He didn’t think it was the sort of thing a man could build his life on, but he was in no hurry to look for anything else at the moment. Jarrod checked himself in the mirror to straighten his tie and smooth back his hair. He was truly looking forward to meeting this woman of Nick’s. He hoped his brother had found someone to build a life with and found himself wondering if that was something he would ever find again.

*

Nick opened the front door and ushered the pretty brunette inside with a sweeping gesture.

“Mother!” he hollered. “Audra! Eugene! Where is everybody?”

“Nick,” the woman chastised with a smile and turned when she heard footsteps from the library.

“Well, brother Nick, are you going to introduce me to the lady?”

Nick turned as well to see his older brother standing with his hands tucked in his pockets. “Jarrod!” he yelled exuberantly and grabbed the other man in an enormous hug that lifted him off his feet. He held his brother at arm’s length. “You look good, Pappy.”

“You too, Nick.” Jarrod threw a charming smile in their guest’s direction. “Uh, Nick, are you forgetting something?” At Nick’s puzzled expression, he added, “Introductions?”

“Oh, yeah.” Nick took her hand and drew her over. “Jarrod, this is Carrie Scott. She’s a new teacher in town. Carrie, my big brother Jarrod.”

Jarrod took her hand in a genteel handshake. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“And you as well,” Carrie replied. “Nick has told me a lot about you.”

“All of it good, I hope.”

Nick noticed a familiar spark in Jarrod’s eyes and gave an inward sigh of relief. He’d been hesitant to have Carrie come to dinner when they got the message Jarrod was coming back to Stockton, but he was glad she did when he didn’t see any evidence of painful memories on Jarrod’s face. Nick wanted his big brother to share in the happiness he’d found with the vivacious teacher, not be reminded of the teacher who had been Jarrod’s own beloved. They’d discussed sharing their news on the ride out and Carrie had encouraged Nick to talk to Jarrod alone first.

“Can I get you a drink, Carrie?” Jarrod offered as he led the way into the parlour. “I believe Mother’s just helping Silas put the finishing touches on dinner and I heard Eugene and Audra upstairs only a couple minutes ago.”

“I think I’ll go see if Victoria and Silas can use any help, but thank you, Jarrod.” She gave Nick a meaningful glance before leaving the room.

Jarrod picked up the crystal decanter. “Nick?”

“Whiskey, thanks, Jarrod.”

Jarrod poured and settled back against the edge of the table. Nick took a sip of his drink and tried to decide where to start.

“Something on your mind, brother Nick?”

Nick looked up at his older brother. Jarrod always could read him like a book and even though they were adults with their own lives, that still hadn’t changed. He grinned wryly. “Never could keep anything from you, Pappy.”

“Spill it, Nick.”

“Well…” Nick took a deep breath. “I asked Carrie to marry me. She said yes.”

Jarrod smiled widely and gave Nick a hearty slap on the back that made the dark haired rancher sigh in relief. “Well, congratulations, my boy! Have you set a date yet?”

Nick shook his head. “Nope. Gotta tell the rest of the family first and see if Carrie’s folks can make it out.” He eyed his brother carefully. “You okay with this, Jarrod?” he asked, more quietly.

“And why wouldn’t I be? Unless of course, you’re not planning on asking me to be best man.”

Nick couldn’t decide if Jarrod was masking his emotions or not. He had to be thinking of the loss of his own wife, but Nick decided to take his brother’s happiness for him at face value. “Can’t imagine not having my big brother by my side when I tie the knot.” That statement did cause a flash of something to cross Jarrod’s face and Nick inwardly winced. Jarrod and Beth had gotten married on the spur of the moment without the family knowing, so Nick didn’t have the chance to stand up for his Pappy.

But Jarrod quickly raised his glass in a toast. “Here’s to you, brother Nick. May you and Carrie have a long happy life together,” and Nick pushed away the guilty feelings and drank to his future happiness.

*

Jarrod managed to keep a cheerful demeanour through dinner. He toasted the affianced couple again and joined Eugene in teasing Nick about his loss of freedom. He played a couple games of pool with his brothers while the women discussed wedding plans and went over the drawings for a new building to house Gene’s veterinary practice when his youngest brother finished college later that year. It was only after Nick took Carrie home and everyone retired that he sought the sanctuary of his room and the bottle of scotch he kept there. Pouring himself a generous amount, Jarrod sank into the large chair by the fireplace and gazed at the picture that resided on the side table. The couple stared out at him; Beth so happy and himself so proud. He tossed back the alcohol and refilled his glass.

He was truly happy for Nick and Carrie; she seemed like a wonderful woman and he didn’t begrudge his brother one ounce of the happiness he’d found with her. When his mother first told him about Nick’s lady love, he didn’t think he felt sad or jealous, but when Nick announced his engagement, Jarrod found himself yearning for what might have been. A wife, a home, a family of his own.

 _But then you wouldn’t have met Heather,_ something inside him whispered.

 _That’s not the same and you know it,_ he chastised the voice. _Heather and I are just having a good time. There’s nothing more to it than that._

He drank some of the scotch and looked at the photograph again. Heather was nothing like Beth. Beth was gentle and refined, with that demure smile and soft voice. He remembered the too few nights she’d spent in his arms, the sweetness of her kisses and the low gasps she tried to hide when he took her, too ladylike to abandon herself completely in their lovemaking. Heather on the other hand…

Jarrod’s flesh started to harden as he thought of the wild abandon with which Heather opened her legs for him. Yes, he was paying her, but she gave herself to him fully and didn’t hold back any of her enjoyment when they took their pleasure in one another. His hand massaged the front of his pants as he thought of how it felt when she touched him.

Beth had never actually touched him like that, Jarrod thought in surprise. In fact, he suddenly recalled her averting her eyes whenever he disrobed and she was always quick to cover herself with the bedcovers or a nightgown when they were done with their loving. A stark contrast to the lustful way Heather’s gaze roved over his nakedness and the provocative way she displayed her body to him.

Suddenly, Jarrod’s pants were growing too tight and he quickly unbuckled his belt and unfastened them to let his throbbing erection spring free. He leaned back in the chair, grasped himself firmly and tried to think of being with his Beth again, if only in his mind. But his thoughts betrayed him and the only face he could picture was that of Heather, the playful look in her eyes and the sultry pose of her lips. He tried to bring Beth’s image back but Heather filled his thoughts and Jarrod gave in. He stroked himself harder as he imagined being buried inside her and heard her voice urging him faster. He increased the tempo of his hand when he imagined his cock surrounded by her tightness and imagined her calling his name in ecstasy as he brought himself to the edge. He could almost feel her fingers digging into his back as he thrust upward.

“Oh, god, Heather,” he moaned as his manhood erupted and his essence spewed over his hand and shirt. He continued to fondle himself while his member twitched and pulsed as it released the last milky drops and wondered why it was so easy for the woman he was supposed to love to be replaced by a woman he was only paying for physical pleasure.


	5. Chapter 5

Heather revelled in the unusual leisure of having nothing to do for about five hours. She read a book, took a long bath and before she knew it, she was bored. She chuckled at herself as she recalled the number of times she’d wished she had nothing to do when her hands burned from the piles of laundry or her shoulders ached from beating the dust out of the hotel rugs.

Well, now here she was and it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Thinking of what she could do to keep herself occupied, Heather decided to visit the brothel where she used to work; she had an idea about something she’d like to do for Jarrod and thought one of the girls would be able to point her in the right direction.

Sure enough, Heather found a name of a business she was looking for and stopped by the kitchen to say hello to her friend Alphonse. The genial Cajun cook greeted her warmly, thrust a bunch of vegetables into her hand and told her affably to make herself useful while they talked. She spent a pleasant hour telling him about the wonderful man whose mistress she now was and coaxing various recipes out of him so she could continue to please Jarrod’s palate as well as his body.

She then went to the address one of the girls had given her and was promised that her surprise for Jarrod would be ready within a few days before she took herself shopping. Jarrod had been very generous and Heather decided to treat herself to a few new things. She’d never had a store-bought dress before; the barely-serviceable outfit she was currently wearing was her best Sunday dress and the fripperies she wore at the bordello had been altered from cast off garments of the other girls.

As she browsed through the shops, Heather wished her mama could have shopped in stores like this. Her mama never had any fine clothes that Heather could remember and deserved more than their meagre existence in that run-down mining town. Not that she would have approved of what her daughter doing, offering her body for money, but Heather hoped she was at least not condemning her if she could see her.

 _I tried, Mama,_ she thought. _I tried to make my way as a decent woman, but I just couldn’t live in Strawberry any more with Uncle Matt and Aunt Martha there. And the money anyone was willing to pay for laundry or cleaning just wasn’t enough to survive on. At least Jarrod Barkley is a good man. Maybe I can save enough money to make something of myself when he tires of me._

Heather blinked away the tear that threatened and resumed her shopping.

 

Waking up the next morning, Heather wondered exactly what she was going to do with herself until Jarrod returned to San Francisco. Her gaze caught the book she had finished and she suddenly remembered that San Francisco now had a library that was open to the public. She’d always loved books, ever since her Aunt Rachel had taught her to read stories from the Bible. She never did get the chance to read much growing up and one of her most prized possessions was the volume of Sir Walter Scott she found abandoned in a room of the hotel. Her mama had let her keep it as long as the owner didn’t come back looking for it. Heather had read it over and over and even with the care she used, the volume of poetry was looking s bit dog-eared.

Mind made up, Heather dressed in one of her new outfits and walked to the building that housed the new library. Even though she now had the money to afford a cab, she enjoyed the brisk walk up and down the hills. If she was going to keep Jarrod’s attention for as long as possible, it would do her well to keep her figure.

Heather was awestruck when she entered the building. Rows upon rows of books greeted her with people quietly perusing the stacks and other patrons reading at tables provided for that purpose. She spend a marvellous few hours surrounded by volumes of history and literature and left with a few precious borrowed items and a promise to herself to explore that wonderful place as much as she could whenever she had time.

It was a beautiful day without a hint of rain, so Heather took her books to a nearby park overlooking the city. She settled herself on a bench and opened the volume of essays by Thoreau and proceeded to immerse herself in the author’s views on life.

The next few days followed in the same vein. She visited her friends, visited the library and even found a reasonably priced livery where she rented a horse to ride out of the city. It was an exhilarating feeling to gallop along the shoreline with the wind blowing in her face. Heather always loved horses. Old Henry at the livery in Strawberry laughed at her, but he would let her exercise his boarders whenever she could sneak away from the hotel. There was nothing like riding and nothing like the feeling of a powerful animal between her legs. Of course, that could apply to more than one type of animal, she told herself with a smile, and if any man could be described as a stallion, it was Jarrod.

When she returned to the city, there was a telegram waiting for her at the apartment from Jarrod, telling her he would be arriving back in San Francisco the next day on the afternoon train and to expect him for dinner. A pleasurable shiver went up Heather’s spine. She knew it wasn’t proper for a woman to desire a man like that; that was what put her mama in the situation she found herself in after all, an unwed woman with a fatherless child. But the others who worked in the brothel had taught her ways to minimize the chance of pregnancy and even if it did happen, she didn’t think Jarrod would just abandon her without a means of support. A man in his position wouldn’t openly acknowledge a child conceived by his mistress, but Jarrod’s reputation as a fair and generous person likely wouldn’t allow him to just cast her off, either. And even if he did… well, they might not have had much, but Heather’s mama had loved her and she knew it would be no different with a child of her own, no matter what the circumstances.

 

Heather had the stew simmering; another recipe supplied by the knowledgeable Alphonse and was fixing a peach cobbler for dessert when she heard the door open.

She quickly wiped the flour from her hands and was about to untie her apron when strong hands pushed hers away and a sultry voice murmured in her ear, “Let me help you with that.” Heather’s heartbeat sped up when Jarrod unfastened the apron and slid his arms around her waist as his lips caressed her neck.

“Did you have a good trip?” she asked, trying to keep her voice even as the hardness of Jarrod’s arousal pushed against her back.

“It was much too long,” was his response as his hands started undoing the buttons on the front of her dress. He found her breasts and pinched her nipples, making them grow hard with desire. Heather closed her eyes and basked in the attention as he slipped the dress off to puddle on the floor and kissed her shoulders. Jarrod then turned her around and his brilliant blue eyes once again captivated her.

Tugging at his belt, Heather met Jarrod’s lips with hers and he pushed her back against the kitchen counter while she deftly unbuttoned his pants. She got them off his hips as he lifted her so her buttocks rested on the work surface and wasted no time in impaling her on his hot shaft. Heather didn’t mind the lack of foreplay; she wanted Jarrod as badly as it appeared he wanted her and she figured they had the rest of the evening to indulge each other. Right then all that mattered was the slapping of flesh on flesh, the grinding of his pelvis into hers, the primal grunts and groans of their exertions and the indescribable pleasure that coursed through her as he fucked her hard. Jarrod bit down on her shoulder as she cried her ecstasy against his neck, his own release coming hard on the heels of hers. Heather kept her legs wrapped around his hips and Jarrod made no move to withdraw while they stayed enveloped in each other’s arms.

“God, baby, what you do to me…” he murmured, moving to catch her gaze.

Heather brushed her lips against his. “I’m no better,” she whispered back.

Jarrod gave her a firm kiss before releasing her so her feet slid back to the floor. He pulled up his pants from where they had pooled around his ankles and sniffed the contents of the pot on the stove while Heather retrieved her dress. “What’s for dinner? It smells delicious.”

Heather laughed as she did up the buttons. “Just like a man, only thinking of your stomach.”

Jarrod raised his eyebrow with a devilish gleam in his eye. “I don’t think that’s the only thing I’m thinking about,” he told her lasciviously.

She swatted at him playfully. “Just let me set the table and then we can eat,” she advised.

Jarrod just kissed her cheek and reached into the cupboard for the dishes. “I’ll do that. If my guess is right, that’s peach cobbler you’re making and it would be a shame if it’s not ready for dessert.”

Heather gave him a grateful smile. Not many men would offer to help with domestic chores. “Thank you, Jarrod.”

He gave her a rakish wink as he left the room and Heather felt her heart flutter again.

 

“This tastes even better than it smells,” Jarrod commented as he took a bite of the fresh bread. “What is it again?”

“Bullfrog stew,” Heather replied, taking a spoonful.

Jarrod paused in mid-bite. “Bullfrog stew?” he asked skeptically.

Heather nodded. “I learned the recipe from a friend from Louisiana.” She paused and looked at him hesitantly. “It is all right, isn’t it?”

Jarrod regarded the contents of his spoon and then ate it. “It’s delicious,” he affirmed, “just a bit… surprising. I’ve had frog legs before, but never in stew.” He considered the blend of spices on his tongue in appreciation. “It must be your magic touch.”

Heather smiled before saying abruptly, “Excuse me, I just remembered something.”

Jarrod watched with admiration as Heather got up from the table and went into the other room. A beautiful woman who could cook as well was hard to find. He was going to be taking a lot fewer of his meals in restaurants when he was in the city from now on, bullfrog stew and all.

Heather returned with a small rectangular package and set it beside his plate. “This is for you.”

“Heather, you didn’t need to do that,” Jarrod protested, but she just laughed.

“Open it.”

With a smile, Jarrod removed the paper and his jaw dropped when he saw what was inside. “Heather…” He looked up into sparkling blue eyes.

“You did say you wished you could take a picture,” she teased.

Jarrod just shook his head in disbelief as he looked again at the image on the paper. He had said that and now there it was. Heather, not wearing a stitch of clothing, was draped across a pile of pillow with one arm over her head and even though she was in profile, he could see the sensual look in her eyes. His manhood twitched as he looked at the firm, pert breasts and the shadowed triangle at the top of her shapely legs. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen nude photographs before; even though he considered himself a gentleman, he wasn’t a prude. It was the fact that she had been photographed for him, that it was him she was thinking about with that gleam in her eyes that made the image that much more arousing.

“I don’t know if thank you quite covers it,” he said appreciatively.

“Well, you can show me your gratitude later.” She gave him a sensual kiss. “Finish your dinner while I get the cobbler out of the oven.”

Jarrod shook his head as she went to the kitchen and took another look at the portrait before he went back to his meal. His appetite was whetted for more than just Heather’s cobbler and was certain all his cravings would be satiated before they called it a night.


	6. Chapter 6

Jarrod shut the door harder than he intended and slapped his hat down on the hall table in vexation. He then took a deep breath to calm himself. Just because his day wasn’t going well didn’t mean he needed to be in such a foul mood and he certainly wasn’t going to take out his frustrations on Heather. The thought of her was what kept him from being in completely bad humour altogether and the sight of her as she came around the corner brought a small, welcome smile to his face.

But she must have sensed something because after he drew her into his arms for a passionate kiss, she pulled back and looked at him searchingly.

“Is something wrong, Jarrod?”

Jarrod shook his head and tried to push away his problem for the time being. “It’s nothing, Heather,” he assured her.

“Well, why don’t you tell me about this nothing,” she requested as she helped him out of his jacket and removed his tie, “and then I’ll see what I can do to improve your day.”

“It’s already improved,” he told her sincerely and let her lead him into the sitting room. She guided him to a comfortable armchair, sat him down and proceeded to pour him a glass of scotch. She handed him the liquor and then settled herself in his lap.

“Now tell me what’s making you so tense,” she said as she massaged the back of his neck.

“It’s nothing, really,” he repeated and relaxed under her ministrations. “My housekeeper’s daughter’s very sick after having her baby and she had to leave at short notice to head down to Fresno to help out. It wouldn’t be such a problem, really, but I’m having several very important people over for dinner tomorrow night and don’t know where I’m going to find someone on such short notice.”

“Maybe I could help,” Heather said in a small voice. “I don’t know if I’m good enough to cook for important people, but if you can’t find anyone else…”

Jarrod looked at her in mild surprise. “Heather, your cooking is fine enough for the President of the United States, but I wouldn’t ask you to do that.”

Heath blushed slightly at the compliment. “I wouldn’t mind, Jarrod. I do like to cook and I did plenty of housekeeping in my uncle’s hotel. My manners might not be the best, but I’d be happy to help you out.”

“Your manners are impeccable,” Jarrod assured her. “If you really wouldn’t mind, I appreciate the offer.” He pulled her head to his for a deeply sensual kiss. “Thank you, sweetheart.” His hand drifted to the front of her dress and caressed the soft mound of her breast. Heather pressed closer and her hand worked its way between them to rest on the growing bulge of his erection. Their tongues met and Heather leaned further into Jarrod’s embrace as his other hand moved to cup the back of her neck. They stayed that way for a long time, kissing and fondling and waking each other to desire before Jarrod rose with Heather in his arms and carried her to the bedroom.

*

Heather smoothed back her hair, took a deep breath and returned to the dining room. So far, dinner had gone well. With Jarrod’s approval, she’d prepared a simple meal of roast and vegetables with a mushroom and tarragon soup for a starter. Something not too exotic, but something that was not everyday. Well, not everyday in most houses; Heather was sure fine cuts of beef were more prevalent on the tables of the houses Jarrod’s guests ate at than on most. Jarrod had chosen an expensive red wine to accompany dinner and from the affable conversation, it seemed as if things were going well. He was trying to keep some of his more influential acquaintances from backing a piece of anti-Chinese legislation the city was planning to pass and from the pleased expression on his face, it appeared he was making progress.

“Shall I serve coffee now, Mr. Barkley?” she asked respectfully.

Jarrod nodded. “I think we’ll have it in the study, thank you.” He turned back to the grey haired gentleman beside him as he and his guests got to their feet. “As I was saying…”

Heather felt a quick pain in her heart at Jarrod’s seeming indifference as she returned to the kitchen for the coffee and just as quickly chastised herself. _You’re the hired help,_ she scolded, _and it would be improper for him to treat you like anything else._

But her heart still felt heavy as she readied the coffee service. She was just the hired help, even if the services she usually performed were of a more intimate nature than those of a cook or housekeeper. She kept a pleasantly impassive face as she served the coffee to Jarrod and his guests and valiantly kept her feelings under control when she asked if there was anything else and received an offhand, “No thank you, Heather, that will be all.”

As she rolled up her sleeves and poured hot water in the sink to do the dishes, Heather couldn’t stop a few tears from rolling down her cheeks. It was silly to be feeling this way, but Heather couldn’t help it. She wasn’t the type of woman to be seen in public gracing the arm of a man like Jarrod Barkley and shouldn’t be allowing herself to fall in love with him, but she guessed she wasn’t the first mistress to fall for her lover and probably wouldn’t be the last. Jarrod wasn’t doing it to hurt her, after all; he had been clear and up front in his intentions from the start. She should just be grateful such a kind and passionate man had chosen her to be his bedmate.

Heather managed to get the majority of the dishes finished and had refilled the sink to wash up the silver and crystal when she felt a soft kiss on her neck. She turned to see Jarrod’s blue eyes shining at her.

“Thank you, Heather,” he said as he picked up a towel and started drying the forks. “You are a lifesaver.”

Heather’s heart warmed at his sincere appreciation. “Jarrod, you shouldn’t be back here,” she protested, “this is my job.”

“And everything was excellent and you’ve been on your feet all day,” he informed her. “This is above and beyond the call of duty. I’ve said goodnight to my guests and I don’t mind helping. Besides,” he said mischievously, “the sooner everything is cleaned up, the sooner you can join me upstairs and let me show you my appreciation for all your hard work.” He gave her a wink and she smiled back and before they knew it, the dishes were done and the kitchen was spotless.

Jarrod took her hands and drew her up the stairs to the large bedroom overlooking the back garden. A large mahogany fireplace dominated one wall and a massive four-poster bed was situated across from it. Jarrod guided Heather to the bed and sat her down before kneeling at her feet and removing her shoes.

“Jarrod, what are you doing?” she asked and he smiled as his hand snaked up under her dress to unfasten her stockings and draw them off one by one.

“Like I said, you’ve been on your feet all day,” he told her. “I’m sure they must be tired.” He rubbed the sole of her foot with strong fingers, starting at her heel and working his way toward her toes. Heather had never had anyone treat her with such tenderness, except maybe when she was little, and never in such a sensual fashion. She hadn’t realized how erotic a simple act could be as Jarrod massaged her feet and ankles.

“That feels wonderful, Jarrod,” she said softly and Jarrod leaned down to kiss the tip of her big toe.

“I’m glad you like it,” he said back. He rose to his knees and started unfastening her dress. Heather reached down to unbutton his shirt, but Jarrod gently pushed her hands away.

“No,” he told her as he slowly undressed her. “You’ve been hard at work to help me all day, let me be the one to do something for you.”

“Jarrod, I was happy to do it,” she objected with a smile.

“And I’m happy to be doing this.” After pulling off all her clothes, Jarrod returned to the side of the bed and began nibbling his way up her leg. She giggled when he nuzzled a ticklish spot at the back of her knee and sighed in pleasure when he kissed and sucked on her inner thigh.

“Oh, Jarrod,” she whispered when his lips moved over to the folds of her womanhood. He lifted her legs so they rested on his shoulders and burrowed his face into the nest of hair between them. He worked her over with relish, using his teeth, lips and tongue to arouse and stimulate her. When he thrust his tongue hard inside, Heather knew it was over and gripped Jarrod’s head to keep it tight against her as her muscles convulsed in a crushing wave of ecstasy. She moaned loudly as she drew every bit of pleasure from his questing mouth and finally collapsed across the bed.

Jarrod sat on the bed and leaned across her. He kissed her forehead gently, her eyes, her cheek and then her lips. “Stay here tonight,” he requested softly. “Stay here; let me love you all night and wake up with you in my arms.”

Heather knew she should say no; she knew she shouldn’t let her heart get in any deeper than it already was. “All right, Jarrod,” she heard herself say and knew she would make the most of every moment she could spend with the man she knew she loved.


	7. Chapter 7

Jarrod stretched and yawned before blinking his eyes open. Something was missing. He reached over to find the other side of the bed empty before the abrupt thought came into his mind.

Beth was dead.

But it wasn’t Beth he was reaching for; it was Heather, the woman who made him laugh and feel alive again. He glanced at the clock and realized he’d slept later than usual, which was probably why the lovely blonde wasn’t beside him. Jarrod pushed off the covers and as he dressed for the day, thought about the last few mornings and the nights that preceded them. Heather told him that it didn’t make sense for him to hire a housekeeper since, as she put it, they were already ‘keeping house’. And Jarrod had to agree it made sense to have her live there. It would save the cost of a second apartment and he already knew how much he enjoyed having dinner with Heather. To be able to have breakfast, not to mention the pleasure of waking up to see her golden hair spread across his pillow and chest, was worth any gossip from the neighbours about having such a young lady as a live in domestic and well worth the extra amount he decided to pay her.

Jarrod took himself to the bathroom to finish getting ready for the day. He heard the soft clink of china from downstairs along with the smell of biscuits and coffee. It was Saturday; they had the whole day to themselves and as he shaved, Jarrod busied himself thinking of what they could do. Maybe a picnic, he decided, as long as the weather held out. They could rent a buggy and spend the day by the ocean. Plans made, he whistled on his way down the stairs.

He didn’t find Heather in the kitchen, but the coffee was on the stove and Jarrod poured himself a cup. She wasn’t in the dining room, either, and Jarrod eventually found her in the study, her feet tucked up under her skirts on the settee, a book in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. A lone curl had escaped the comb she wore to hold her hair back and Jarrod gave in to the urge to walk quietly behind her and tuck it behind her ear.

Heather jumped, startled. “Jarrod!” she accused. “You could have made me spill my coffee and ruined the book!”

Jarrod took the volume out of her hands and read the title. “ ‘A Dissertation On the Origin and Foundation of the Inequality of Mankind’ by Jean Jacques Rousseau.” He raised an eyebrow in mild surprise. “Heavy reading for first thing in the morning.”

Heather blushed slightly. “I started it yesterday and wanted to finish,” she said diffidently. “I’ll get you your breakfast.”

Jarrod stopped her with an upraised hand and gave the book back to her. “Nonsense. Go ahead and keep reading; I’m perfectly capable of fending for myself.” Heather gave him a sweet smile and Jarrod resisted the urge to kiss her, knowing just what that would lead to. “But when you’re done, I thought it might be nice to take a ride down the coast and have a picnic. If you’re free,” he added slyly.

Heather laughed. “I’ll check my schedule, but I should be able to fit you in,” she teased. “I’ll go pack a lunch in a few minutes.” She looked down at her dress. “Should I change into riding clothes?”

Jarrod sat on the edge of the settee and chuckled softly. “I just assumed we’d take a buggy; I hadn’t actually thought about asking if you rode. A lot of ladies from the city don’t.”

“Well, then, it’s a good thing I’m not from the city.” She looked at him earnestly. “I love riding, Jarrod. Would you mind if we took a couple horses instead of a buggy?”

“If that’s what you want, then that’s what we’ll do.” Jarrod got to his feet and kissed her cheek. “I’m going to grab some breakfast and then we can head out. We can just pick up lunch at a café I know.”

Jarrod hoped the day would turn out just as sunny as his current mood.

*

A gentle breeze blew across the bluff as Jarrod emptied the last of the wine into Heather’s glass. He leaned back on his elbows and watched her as she gazed over the ocean. She was a remarkable horsewoman, he reflected, thinking of the way she’d handled the spirited gelding she chose for their ride. Not the genteel ladies’ mount he’d expected her to pick, but then again, Heather was full of surprises today.

“So you read Rousseau,” he commented.

Heather turned to him, an attractive glow on her cheeks from the fresh sea air. “His theories on the nature of man and society are fascinating,” she defended with a smile. “And it was on your bookshelf.”

“I’m not criticizing,” he assured her, “it’s just not the sort of thing I expected to find you reading. ‘Jane Eyre’, perhaps.” His eyes held a twinkle of mischief.

Heather blushed slightly. “Well, I’ve read that too,” she admitted. “I hope you don’t mind that I’m plundering your library.”

“Not at all.” Jarrod took a sip from his glass. “I’m just realizing that I don’t really know a lot about you, other than the obvious.” At her questioning glance, he elaborated, “You’re devastatingly beautiful, an amazing cook, my shirts have never been cleaner and you are an absolute lioness in bed.”

Heath laughed and blushed again. “Well, what else do you need to know?” she asked.

“Oh, where you grew up, how you learned to ride so well, why you ended up here.” He paused and looked at her intently. “I’m not meaning to pry and you certainly don’t have to tell me anything, I suppose I’d just like to know more about you.”

Heather shrugged. “Not much to tell, really. I grew up in a little town up on the Stanislaus, a place called Strawberry. Not much left there anymore.”

The name seemed familiar and it took Jarrod a moment to place it. “It had a mine, didn’t it?” At her nod, he added, “My father owned that mine for a while, many years ago. I don’t think I’ve ever been there, though.”

“You didn’t miss much,” Heather told him. “When the mine gave out, the people left. Now it’s all but a ghost town, living with memories.”

“And your family?”

“My mama was beautiful, warm and soft,” Heather said wistfully, “and in a way, very strong. I never knew my father. It was hard for my mama to raise me by herself but she always did the best she could.” She looked at Jarrod and he thought he detected a glint of tears before she turned away again. “She died a few months ago. I buried her in the potter’s field outside of town. I wasn’t about to be beholden to my Uncle Matt or his wife, so I came to San Francisco. It was hard to find work that paid enough to live on and that’s how I ended up where you found me.” She hung her head and Jarrod could see the shame on her face.

He set down his glass before gently lifting her chin and turning her head so she faced him. With tender fingers, he wiped the tears off her cheeks. “If you were selling, I was buying,” he told her. “I think that makes us even. And I’m sorry about your mother.”

“Thank you, Jarrod,” she whispered as he gathered her into his arms.

He leaned down and kissed her. “Now what can I do to bring that smile back to your face?” he mused out loud. He moved his mouth to her neck. “Maybe this?” A hint of a smile came to her face as his hand slid across her hip. “Maybe this?” Then, knowing she wasn’t wearing a corset under her riding outfit, he said, “How about this?” and quickly moved to tickle the sensitive skin along her ribs.

“Jarrod!” Heath protested, laughing as she tried to get away. Jarrod’s eyes gleamed wickedly as he pinned her to the blanket and continued his assault. Heather squirmed as he kept on tickling, still laughing and protesting until tears ran down her face. He took pity on her after a moment and stopped, his hand moving instead to caress her breast. His manhood was already hard from Heather’s writhing beneath him and he pushed it against her as he rapidly undid her riding pants.

“Jarrod, someone might see,” she protested at their exposed location.

“Then we should give them a good show,” he said devilishly as he pulled the pants and undergarments off her legs. He brought his mouth down on hers to stifle any more protests and fumbled his own pants open with one hand to let his erection spring free. Jarrod quickly parted her thighs with his and rammed his cock into her with one hard motion. Heather gasped in shock, not quite ready for his abrupt assault, but wrapped her arms and legs around him tightly when he rose up with a hint of concern in his eyes.

“Ride me hard, Jarrod,” she said and Jarrod didn’t hesitate to slam into her again. He might not have given her any time to prepare, but her center was already drenched in moisture and his massive organ slid in and out of her tight tunnel with ease. He crushed his lips against hers and his hips established a vicious rhythm. His hot length pounded into her and Heather whimpered under the onslaught; but when he looked into her eyes, they were filled with dark lust. Jarrod felt his shaft swell even larger from the desire he saw on her face. He didn’t hold back; he was remorseless as he hammered away at her pussy and soon his cock was pulsing in exaltation as the sounds of Heather’s climax were ripped from her throat. He thrust into her until every last tremor subsided and slowly pushed himself up to gently kiss her lips.

“Heather, if I’m ever too rough…” he started, but she silenced him with a smile and a finger on his lips.

“I like it that way, too, Jarrod,” she assured him. “When you’re done with me, it feels like nothing else and I like that feeling. But just in case someone does come along…”

Heather reached down and drew his pants back over his hips. He chuckled when she pushed him off to retrieve her own and quickly pulled her back into a warm embrace when she was clothed.

“You are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met,” he murmured into her hair as she nestled against him and felt a rush of wonder at how complete he felt with Heather Thomson in his arms.


	8. Chapter 8

Jarrod closed the door behind him and carefully set the large box against the wall. He hoped Heather would be thrilled with his surprise and couldn’t wait to see the look on her face. He heard soft humming from the study and walked in to find Heather dusting around the papers on his desk.

“Hard at work I see,” he commented as he leaned against the wall. She turned and gave him a bright smile.

“You’re back early,” Heather observed. “I haven’t even thought of dinner yet, so you can choose.”

“Well, then.” Jarrod sauntered over to her and pulled something out of his pocket. “I choose dinner at the Palace Hotel dining room followed by a night at the opera.”

Heather’s eyes grew huge as she looked at the tickets to _La Traviata_ Jarrod handed her. “Jarrod, you can’t mean it,” she exclaimed in disbelief.

Jarrod just grinned. “Jarrod Barkley rarely jokes,” he assured her as he gave her a playful tap on the nose with a finger. “And since our reservations are in just over an hour, I suggest you go get the box I left you in the hall and see if it fits.” He turned her in the direction of the door and gave her a gentle push.

Still with an expression of disbelief, Heather picked up the box in the hall. Jarrod held it steady as she opened it.

“Jarrod…” She didn’t say anything else as she pulled out the magnificent silk creation. Gold threads winked at her through the dark red and she caught a glimpse of intricate embroidery. “This must’ve cost a fortune!”

“I just hope it fits,” Jarrod said with a hint of mischief. “Do you know how much I worried that you’d find out I plundered your closet so they could get your size right?” He gave her another push, this time in the direction of the stairs. “Go get ready. If you need help, I’ll have you know I’m very good with buttons and hooks.” His eyes glinted with mischief.

That earned him a laugh and a kiss. “With unfastening them,” she laughed. “Doing them up, well, I’ll just have to take your word for it.”

Jarrod watched as she carefully put the bundle of fabric back in the box and headed up the stairs before going to get ready himself.

Heather thought she was in a dream as she looked in the mirror. Not to say that her current life with Jarrod wasn’t a dream in itself, but she’d never imagined wearing something like this. The cut was simple, a tightly fitted bodice that flowed smoothly into a full skirt of the heaviest, most expensive silk brocade Heather had ever seen. A few gathers pulled the back into a small bustle and a modest train swept the floor. The décolletage was low cut with gold embroidery and the sleeves were stylishly short. Heather managed to get it fastened by herself, never having used a ladies’ maid.

She’d found another small box inside the larger one, this one holding two jewelled hair clips, matching earrings and elbow length gloves. Heather fastened her blonde hair into an elegant upsweep secured by the clips, fastened the earrings to her ears and donned the gloves. The fine lady looking back at her from the mirror was a far cry from the ragged girl who scrubbed floors in the hotel in Strawberry. The story of Cinderella was brought to mind and Heather giggled at the thought that Jarrod Barkley was fairy godmother and Prince Charming all rolled into one. But even though she was only playing at being a fine lady, Heather was happy to believe the dream would last long after midnight, even if she knew it couldn’t be forever.

*

Heather sighed with delight as Jarrod escorted her to the lobby at intermission. Dinner had been amazing and the opera was enchanting. The strains of Verdi’s music played over in her head as Jarrod handed her a glass of champagne.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asked with a dashing smile. He looked so incredibly handsome in his formal black suit, he took her breath away.

She was sure the smile on her face already told him, but answered anyway. “It’s wonderful, Jarrod, thank you.”

“Ah, Jarrod.” Jarrod and Heather turned to find a distinguished looking gentleman with a neatly trimmed moustache approach.

“Senator,” Jarrod greeted with a hearty handshake. “How are you this fine evening?”

“Oh, good, good,” the senator replied. He gave Heather an appraising once over and she was hard pressed to control her reaction when she recognized him a client from her short time at the bordello. Jarrod knew what she was, Heather reminded herself, but she still hoped the other man wouldn’t say anything.

“Senator Bridger, this is Miss Thomson,” Jarrod introduced graciously. “Heather, this is Senator Sam Bridger. He’s been very instrumental in furthering legislation that will help our valley.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Heather said politely and the senator took her hand in a genteel handshake.

“You as well, Miss Thomson.”

“So, Jarrod.” The senator turned his attention to the dark haired lawyer. “I’ve heard there might be an opening for a new Attorney General in California.”

“Is that so?” Jarrod’s response was nonchalant, but when he took a sip of his champagne, Heather could see the glimmer of interest. “Anyone in the running for the nomination?”

“Not yet, but we need fresh blood. Someone with fresh ideas and the ability to persuade people to listen to him.” Senator Bridger gave Jarrod a knowing look, which Jarrod returned in kind.

The lights dimmed to warn of the start of the next act and Jarrod and the senator said their goodbyes before everyone headed to their seats.

Heather couldn’t enjoy the rest of the show like she had the first part. The plight of the story’s heroine was too close to that of her own situation. Being with an unsuitable woman could seriously harm Jarrod’s future, especially if what she garnered from the conversation with the senator was true and Jarrod had his sights set on political office. But she put on a brave smile and the spectacular music and performances helped take her mind off the reality.

And later, the two of them together in Jarrod’s bed wove a magic of their own and she was able to lose herself briefly in the passion of their lovemaking. Jarrod fell asleep not long after, but Heather remained awake to stare at the ceiling. When she couldn’t lie still any longer, she quietly slipped out of the bed, not wanting to wake him. Pulling on a robe, she padded to the window and gazed out into the night. The moon glowed faintly behind a covering of cloud and Heather took a deep breath. She couldn’t deny reality any longer; a man like Jarrod Barkley couldn’t afford to be associated with a woman like her, not if he had any real ambitions. Someone aspiring to political office needed a respectable wife and family and that just wasn’t something she and Jarrod could ever have.

Heather started as strong arms wrapped around her waist.

“Something wrong?” Jarrod whispered into her ear.

Heather shook her head, trying to control her feelings as she leaned back against the warmth of his chest. “No, guess I just couldn’t sleep.”

Jarrod’s hands untied the robe and slipped it off her shoulders. “Maybe I can help,” he murmured seductively, kissing her neck as his hands caressed her breasts and stomach.

“Maybe you can,” Heather agreed. She felt Jarrod’s maleness grow hard against her as his hands continued to cherish her skin, lips kissing and nibbling their way across her neck and shoulders and she vowed again to make the most of every moment, knowing she would have to do the same as Violetta in Verdi’s opera and leave Jarrod before his relationship with her irrevocably ruined the future of the man she loved.


	9. Chapter 9

Nick swore softly under his breath. It wasn’t as it he’d never tied one of those godforsaken things before, but for the life of him, it just kept coming out crooked. He glared at his reflection in the mirror as if he could intimidate the tie into fastening itself properly.

“Looks like you could use a hand, brother Nick.” Nick turned to see his older brother impeccably dressed in his black suit. The cuffs of his white shirt with their gold cufflinks extended exactly the right amount below the sleeves of the jacket, Jarrod’s hair was groomed to its usual perfection and his tie sported a perfectly formed knot.

Nick huffed in exasperation and Jarrod chuckled as he strode over and efficiently retied the offending piece of clothing. “And now you know why I’m called the ‘best man’,” the lawyer kidded.

Nick had to grin. “Thanks, Jarrod. Reckon I’m a bit fumble-fingered today.”

Jarrod reached up and squeezed Nick’s shoulder. “Understandable, Nick, after all, you are getting married. I know I was a nervous wreck on my wedding day.”

It was Nick’s turn to give his brother’s arm a reassuring squeeze. “I wish this wouldn’t have to bring all that back, Pappy.”

Jarrod smiled wryly. “That’s okay. Lord knows I wallowed in grief and self-pity for long enough. I’ve come to realize that what everyone’s been telling me is true, that life does go on and sometimes in a way you never expect.”

Nick eyed Jarrod closely. There was a certain undercurrent of happiness to his big brother’s expression that he hadn’t seen in a long time. It reminded him a lot of the feeling he had whenever he thought of Carrie.

“Does this thing you didn’t expect have a name?”

Jarrod glanced sharply at Nick before chuckling softly. “She just might, at that.” He was about to add something when Eugene poked his head through the door.

“Time’s up, Nick,” the youngest Barkley announced. “The guests are seated, the reverend’s waiting and I hear the bride hasn’t come to her senses yet and even might be ready.”

“Funny man,” Nick grumbled good-naturedly. He took a deep breath, tugged on his shirtsleeves and squared his shoulders. “How do I look?”

“Like you’re ready to conquer the world, Nick,” Jarrod told him with a smile. “Lead the way, Gene.” The three brothers went down the stairs to where the guests were all seated. Jarrod and Nick took their positions at the far side of the room beside Rev. McKay before Gene escorted their mother and Carrie’s down the aisle and sat beside Victoria in the front row. The reverend gave a nod to Audra who was seated at the piano and the strains of Wagner’s “Bridal Chorus” echoed through the house.

Carrie’s sister came down the grand staircase first, wearing a dress of pale silk. Jarrod noticed the smile she gave her husband as she walked by him. The lawyer had only met his brother’s future in-laws the day before, but they seemed to be people he could like and respect.

Then all eyes went back to the stairs as Carrie descended on her father’s arm. Jarrod glanced over to Nick. His brother only had eyes for the vision in ivory lace that was walking slowly towards him. It hadn’t been quite the same, Jarrod thought, waiting for Beth in the lobby of the hotel and walking into the office of the justice of the peace. But he still remembered that awed feeling when they were pronounced ‘man and wife’ and the pride with which he took her on his arm when they had their portrait taken.

As he listened to the reverend perform the ceremony, Jarrod relived the memory of his own wedding. But something in his mind started to change. Instead of Beth’s face looking at him when he said ‘I do’, it was Heather’s. And it was Heather’s soft voice he heard repeating her pledge back to him.

The realization hit Jarrod like a ton of bricks as he handed Carrie’s wedding ring over to Nick. He was in love with Heather. In love with the woman he was paying to warm his bed; in love with the totally inappropriate choice of a soiled dove; in love with the most enchanting and provocative woman he had ever met. That sudden recognition took Jarrod’s breath away and he managed to regain his composure in time to congratulate the newly married couple.

The wedding luncheon was served, the toasts were made, the cake was cut and before Jarrod knew it, he was shaking Nick’s hand as Carrie went upstairs to change clothes before they left for a week’s honeymoon at the Barkley hunting lodge.

“You be good to her, Nick,” the elder brother admonished the younger, “don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Well, that gives me a lot of leeway, counsellor,” Nick shot back with a grin, “I’ve heard stories.”

Jarrod chuckled as he tucked one of his expensive cigars into Nick’s pocket. “And some of them might even be true,” he confessed with a wink.

Nick reached out and enfolded Jarrod in a warm hug. “When I get back, you’re gonna have to tell me her name,” he ordered.

Jarrod just smiled. “Have a good time, Nick,” he said as he saw Carrie come down the stairs. He watched as Nick gave Eugene a hearty goodbye and their little sister a big kiss. The young man was leaving to finish off college back east in a couple days, accompanied by Audra and their Aunt Ruth who had graciously offered for her to spend the summer; this would be the last chance Nick had to wish them well.

After the happy couple was seen off, Jarrod grabbed another cigar, a glass and the remains of a bottle of champagne and excused himself to the garden as the army of staff hired for the occasion set the house to rights. He needed some time to think about the revelation he’d just had.

Jarrod lit the cigar and took a deep inhale of the fragrant smoke. Heather. Even the thought of her set his mind aflame. His mind, not just his body. She was intelligent enough to challenge him, they had the same tastes in literature and art and she made him smile. She made him more than smile; she made him happier than he ever thought he could be again and he knew his life wouldn’t be complete any more without her in it. People would talk and whisper behind his back, but Jarrod didn’t care. If they didn’t respect his choice to follow his heart and his political ambitions suffered for it, that was their loss more than it was his.

Jarrod made up his mind. As soon as he got back to San Francisco he would tell her so and ask her if she would become his wife. Pouring himself a glass of champagne, he held it up in a silent toast to Heather, love and their hopefully long lasting happiness together.

*

Heather looked at the stack of cash. She had saved up a lot of money in the weeks she’d been with Jarrod, but wondered if it would be enough. Sighing, Heather decided it would have to be. Leaving would only get harder the longer she stayed and if she really loved Jarrod, she had to go before any hint of scandal affected his future ambitions.

She gathered up the money and went to change into some clothes more suited for travelling as well as tuck most of the money into a belt she fastened on under her clothes. She packed her things in a carpetbag and a tear trickled down her cheek when she ran a hand over the red silk dress she’d worn to the opera. It wasn’t practical to take it with her and she didn’t think she could ever wear it again anyway without thinking of what could never be.

Heather knew she was being a coward, leaving while Jarrod was out of town, but she didn’t think she’d be able to stick to her resolve if she had those expressive blue eyes looking at her. So she wrote Jarrod a note, telling him how much she treasured their time together, but that she had to move on with her life and he with his.

Gathering up her things, Heather left the house, locking the door behind her before searching for a cab to take her to the train station.

*

Jarrod’s first stop when he arrived in San Francisco was the jeweller’s. He resisted the impulse to buy the largest, flashiest ring in the showcase and settled on a gold band inset with small diamonds and sapphires that he thought suited Heather perfectly. Picking up a bouquet of roses from a street corner vendor on impulse, Jarrod told his driver to head for home.

The town house was quiet and when Jarrod couldn’t find Heather, he assumed she was out shopping or had maybe even gone for a ride. He sighed, not really wanting to wait and chuckled at himself for his impatience. Going into the study, he set the flowers down on the desk and went to pour himself a glass of scotch.

A note was propped against the crystal decanter and Jarrod read his name on the outside, written in Heather’s neat script. He unfolded the paper and his heart fell as he read its contents.

She’d left him.

Jarrod sat back heavily on a nearby chair, feeling like he’d just been punched in the gut. He’d never given her the impression that she wasn’t good enough for him, had he? He thought back over the time they’d been together and realized to his shame that the only time he’d really taken her anywhere in public was to the opera the week before. Jarrod’s heart constricted painfully. Her background didn’t matter to him and by the tone of her note, he’d hurt her terribly by not telling her so.

Jarrod didn’t know if Heather would return his feelings and want to make a life with him, but he knew he had to rectify his mistake. He would do whatever he needed to find her, apologize for his unthinking behaviour and declare his love. He only prayed that she loved him too.

Mind made up, Jarrod grabbed his hat and flagged down a cab. He’d start his search at the train station. Heather was a beautiful woman and she couldn’t have left more than three days ago, after he’d gone to Stockton for Nick’s wedding. Surely he’d find someone who remembered where she’d gone and he could follow her trail. Jarrod paid the driver when they arrived and gave him a generous tip. He made his way towards the ticket office through the crowd of people waiting for the next train.

He spotted a flash of blonde out of the corner of his eye and turned, words on his lips, but his heart fell when he saw the woman was a lot older than his beloved. Jarrod gritted his teeth against his fallen hopes and continued towards the ticket booth.

A burly man pushed his way through the crowd and Jarrod felt someone bump into him from behind. At the soft, “Excuse me,” Jarrod’s heart rose back into his chest as he turned and caught her arm.

He gazed into her surprised blue eyes and, without any thought for propriety, pulled Heather tight into his arms and kissed her passionately. He didn’t intend to break off the embrace until he had to for lack of air. After what seemed to him like an eternity, Heather’s arms slipped around him and her lips matched his with equal fervour.

They broke apart slowly, Jarrod reluctant to let her go even the slightest bit.

“I love you, Heather,” he breathed, “you’re my heart and my life. I don’t care where you came from, or who you were, I just want you to be Mrs. Jarrod Barkley. Please say you’ll marry me.” Heather stared at him and Jarrod thought he could see the love he felt in her eyes as well.

“Jarrod…” Then Heather looked around and said softly, “Everyone’s staring.”

Jarrod took a look around and saw disapproving stares, but here and there a smile as well.

“Come on,” he said and picked up Heather’s bag and grabbed her hand. He led her out of the station and down the street to a nearby park. Finding a secluded bench, he put down the carpetbag and sat, pulling her to sit beside him.

“I love you,” he told her again, “I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it.” Jarrod reached up and cupped her cheek. “I know I shouldn’t expect you to feel the same way, but I want you to be more than my mistress. I want you to be my wife.”

Heather looked away and Jarrod could see tears in her eyes. “You can’t, Jarrod,” she said quietly. “A man like you can’t marry a woman like me. It just isn’t done.” She looked back at him “What about your work, your career? I know you were thinking of running for Attorney General.”

Jarrod couldn’t stand the hopelessness in her eyes. “It doesn’t matter,” he told her firmly. “All that matters is you and how happy we are together. You make me happy, Heather. Happier than I ever thought I could be again.” He kissed her softly. “Marry me, Heather. The only thing I can’t live without in my life is you.”

Heather’s lip trembled. “I must be dreaming,” she whispered, “but if this is a dream, I never want to wake up. I love you, too, Jarrod, and yes, I will marry you.”

“This isn’t a dream,” he assured her with another kiss. “This is very, very real.” He reached into his pocket, drew out the box he still had there and slipped the ring on her finger. “Come on, let’s go home.”

The ride passed quickly, the two of them holding each other close. Jarrod swept Heather into his arms as soon as he closed the door to the townhouse and carried her up the stairs against her laughing protests.

“Jarrod, aren’t you supposed to wait until we’re married to carry me across the threshold?” she teased.

He dropped her on the bed and lay down beside her. “Well, there are other things we’re supposed to wait until we’re married to do,” he said mischievously. “Should we wait for those as well?”

“I think it’s a little too late to be thinking of that,” Heather teased as she pushed him onto his back and started unbuttoning his shirt.

Jarrod chuckled as he reached up and took the pins out of her hair to let it tumble around her shoulders. “And I wasn’t planning to.” He pulled her head down and kissed her ardently. His mouth devoured hers and his hands made quick work of unfastening her bodice. He caressed the creamy breasts that spilled free and Heather’s lips turned their attention to his neck. Jarrod’s pants were getting tight, so he didn’t protest when she moved out of his grasp to finish removing her clothing and started on his. He stretched his arms above his head and lifted his hips so she could slip off his pants after she removed his boots. She ran her hands up his thighs, hips and over his stomach as she made her way back up to take his mouth again. Jarrod held her close, revelling in the feeling of her warm body covering his. He broke off the kiss and pushed her up slightly so he could meet her eyes.

“I love you, Heather,” he told her.

She reached up and brushed back the lock of hair that had strayed onto his forehead. “I love you, too, Jarrod.” She shifted so the slickness between her legs rubbed against his hard shaft. Jarrod reached down to grasp his member and guide it into her waiting portal. He pushed in slowly. Heather moved with him until he was completely embedded within her. She started rocking on his shaft and Jarrod held himself still, letting her set her own pace. His hands roamed across her back and buttocks and as she started to ride him harder, he grasped her hips to aid her movements. Their joining felt so complete, so right, Jarrod didn’t rush, he just wanted the moment to go on forever and never leave her embrace. And after they came down from the heights of their ecstasies, he continued to hold her close and knew that this was the way it was meant to be.


	10. Chapter 10

A massive storm had swept through the San Joaquin Valley, leaving a swath of destruction in its wake. They didn’t think it was the right moment for their announcement, so Heather decided to stay back in San Francisco while Jarrod rushed home. Now Jarrod stared ruefully at the damage in the grand house. The fury of the storm had shattered one of the French doors and the bombardment of wind and rain had wreaked havoc on the corner of the library. Soggy paper was strewn across the big desk and there was a definite warp in the oak surface from the water damage. He sighed.

“Well, at least the billiard table is okay,” Nick said as he strode into the room. He and Carrie had cut their honeymoon short so Nick could help with the cleanup.

“And at least I have copies of all the important documents in my office in town,” Jarrod added. “Let’s see if there’s anything salvageable in here.” He tugged on one of the desk drawers, but it didn’t budge. “Hey, Nick, give me a hand over here.”

Both brothers grabbed the wooden handle and pulled hard. The drawer came unstuck and part of the bottom flew off to land on the floor. A piece of paper fluttered down to land beside it. Nick looked at the broken drawer curiously as Jarrod picked up the envelope.

“Huh. This drawer had a false bottom,” he observed. “You know anything about that, Jarrod?”

Jarrod shook his head. “No. But this is addressed to Mother, in Father’s handwriting.”

“What is addressed to me?”

Both men turned to find Victoria standing in the doorway.

“A letter in a secret compartment in the desk,” Jarrod said as he handed it to her.

Victoria got a far away look in her eyes as she gazed at her name on the front and then opened the flap and took out the single sheet of paper. She started reading and suddenly her hand flew to her mouth and she grew pale.

“Mother, what is it?” Nick asked as he went to her. He guided her to sit on the settee after she handed the letter to Jarrod.

Jarrod took it. “It’s dated the day before he died.”

“Read it, Jarrod,” Victoria requested in a shaky voice. “To all of us.”

Jarrod did as she requested and started reading the letter out loud.

 

“ _‘Dearest Victoria,_

 _I am writing this letter in the hope that it gives me the courage to speak with you in person. I am not perfect and have never pretended to be, but what I must say is worse than the failings of an ordinary man._

 _I first must assure you that I love you and that my love has never wavered. It is with a heavy heart that I admit to you my sin and hope by some miracle you will find it in your heart to forgive me._

 _You may remember eighteen years ago when I was lost for a time. I had been bushwhacked and beaten and left for dead. I only later regained my memory to know who I was and come home to you._

 _What I didn’t tell you is that during my convalescence, I was taken in by a young woman who not only shared her home with me, but her bed as well’…_ ”

 

Jarrod stopped and looked at his mother. Nick put his arm around her and there were tears on her face, but she motioned for him to go on.

 

“ _‘I recently made a trip back to Strawberry, to clarify the location of some of the holdings I had sold. I was informed by a friend of Leah’s that she had conceived a child, my daughter that she decided to raise on her own, a daughter I knew nothing about._

 _I am putting this on paper, my dearest Victoria, so there is proof of Heather Thomson’s paternity’…_ ”

 

Jarrod’s voice faltered. The name written on the paper seared into his mind. Heather Thomson. The name of the woman who’d just agreed to marry him. The woman who had all of his heart and had given herself to him completely. Jarrod’s knees started to give out and he gripped the edge of the desk to steady himself.

Jarrod didn’t notice when Nick took the paper from his nerveless fingers and finished reading it. He tried to deny it, tried to find some fault with the logic that was telling him the woman he loved was his sister. But the pieces fit too well; the time, the place, the name. Even Heather’s blonde hair and blue eyes that he had to acknowledge were Tom Barkley’s.

He was in love with his half-sister. And they shared more than that; they had shared each other in the most intimate way a man and woman could.

Jarrod started to feel sick. The room started to spin and he barely heard Nick’s question, “Jarrod, are you okay?”

Jarrod shook his head to clear it and tried to get a hold of himself. He couldn’t do this now. He couldn’t fall apart in front of his mother and brother, especially when they needed him. “I’m all right,” he heard himself say. “Just got a little dizzy, I guess I didn’t eat enough for breakfast this morning.”

Taking his explanation at face value, Nick shook the paper in front of Jarrod’s face. “So what are we going to do about this?” he demanded.

“I’ll tell you what we are going to do,” Victoria said calmly. Both men looked to their mother, whose face held determination overlying the hint of sadness. “We are going to honour your father’s wishes. He was killed before he could tell anyone, but it’s clear he wanted…” She paused to regain her composure. “It’s clear he wanted his daughter, your sister, to be a part of this family and to have the name she’s entitled to.”

Jarrod closed his eyes to mask his dismay when she said ‘your sister’.

“Mother,” Nick started to protest but she forestalled him with an upraised hand.

“No, Nick, we will do what’s right.” Victoria turned to Jarrod. “Jarrod, I’m sure you can use your contacts to find her.”

“That shouldn’t be too hard, Mother,” he said bitterly.

He did want to give Heather the Barkley name, just not like this. The image of the two of them, standing in front of the family and pledging their eternal love and devotion hit him again and Jarrod held on tightly to the pieces of his world that threatened to crumble into ruin. “I’ll head into town,” he said, using all the courtroom poise he could muster. “If I locate her, I’ll go talk to her in person.” He reached for the paper Nick held and was relieved to see his hand wasn’t shaking. “I’ll need this.”

“Jarrod,” Victoria said with concern, “you’re not feeling well. Maybe Nick should start…”

“NO!” Jarrod snapped, a little louder than he intended. He took a deep breath. “I’m fine, Mother,” he reassured her, “I’ll grab something from the kitchen on my way out. Nick has enough to do around here after that storm.”

Victoria reached up and kissed his cheek. “Don’t push yourself too hard, dear,” she advised. “Your father wrote this six years ago, I don’t think another six days or even six weeks will make much difference.”

Six weeks would have made all the difference, Jarrod thought as he rode out of the yard. If they had known six weeks ago, he would have located Heather as her brother. They would never have fallen in love, they would never have…

Jarrod felt the sick feeling rise in his stomach again. For over the past month, he’d been fucking his sister. Not just once or twice, which would have been bad enough, but nightly marathons that left them both drained and satisfied in a way he’d never experienced before. And there was more to their relationship than just the physical. Jarrod felt complete when they were together and knew Heather felt the same way. How the hell was he going to tell her he was her brother?

The bile rose in his throat and this time it was due to anger. Anger towards a world that had let that happen and anger towards a father who should have known better. Oh, he understood from the letter that his father hadn’t known who he was or that he was married. The fact that he had been unfaithful was really only a crime against his wife and if Victoria could see past that, Jarrod has no cause to dwell on it, other than the knowledge that his beloved mother had been hurt. No, his anger was directed at the fact that his father knew how babies were conceived and there was no excuse for him not to go check on his former lover. It would have been hard on all of them to find out that Tom had fathered an illegitimate child, but a world of heartache would have been prevented if they’d grown up knowing about each other.

Jarrod spurred Jingo harder and the sorrel picked up his pace, eager for a run. He had been in that position himself, years ago while serving in the war. He had been lost on the battlefield, wounded, dazed and hurting. She had just lost her family when the Confederate army overran her farm. They were able to take solace in one another’s bodies and out of that union, they conceived a child. Jarrod had remembered his father’s talk about taking responsibility for one’s actions and made sure to check in on her after he left. When she told him about the child, Jarrod made plans to marry her but everything was made moot when she caught fever and passed away. And if he had made a baby with Heather …

 _Damn you, Father,_ he shouted silently to the wind as it whistled past, _if I could step up and be a man, why couldn’t you? Why did you keep us in the dark? Damn you, Father, why?_ But the wind and the ghost of his father had no answer and the rest of the ride went past Jarrod in a blur.

Jarrod closed himself in his office after he got to town and poured a large glass of scotch. It burned on the way down as he drank it in one gulp. Pouring another, he collapsed into the chair behind his desk and sank his head into his hands.

What the hell was he going to do? His first thought was to burn the letter, to deny any knowledge of the truth. But that wasn’t an option, even if his mother and brother didn’t already know. If he did that, he’d be living a lie and Jarrod knew he couldn’t keep up a life like that for long.

No, the only thing he could do was tell Heather and let her decide where to go from there. She had every right to claim her heritage as Tom Barkley’s daughter. What was past couldn’t be changed, but they could salvage some sort of future. Not the future he’d envisioned, but she would still be in his life even if it wasn’t in the way he yearned for her to be.

Assuming she even wanted to be associated with the family of the father who’d abandoned her mother in that decaying mining town. Assuming he could stand to see her everyday, knowing what they meant to each other, what they’d shared and would never be able to share again.

Jarrod drained his glass, quickly penned a note to the family telling them he had a lead and made his way to the station to catch the next train to San Francisco.

 

*

Jarrod hesitated, his hand over the doorknob. When he opened that door, his hopes and dreams for his future life would be shattered more irrevocably than the glass in the storm. His hand started to shake. Oh god, how was he going to tell the woman he loved more than anything that what they shared, what they wanted and needed from each other was forbidden? He closed his eyes tightly and took a few deep breaths. He couldn’t let himself fall apart. He was the strong one, the one everyone turned to. He was the respected attorney with the reputation of never losing his calm unless it was a calculated move to benefit his case. He had no choice, he had to go in and tell Heather the truth.

Jarrod opened the door and slowly walked in. He took off his hat and set it on the hall table with studied determination before going into the study where he’d seen a light burning from outside. His heart constricted painfully when he saw her curled up on the settee, her head back against the side and a book forgotten open in her lap. It was late; he should have realized she’d likely be asleep. Jarrod fought back the threatening tears as he watched her sleep, watched the rise and fall of her chest and the peaceful look on her face. Slowly, he made himself walk to the settee. He picked up the discarded book and set it carefully beside the lamp before sitting beside her and taking her hand.

“Heather?” he said, unable to make his voice any louder than a whisper. She stirred slightly and stretched her arm over her head as her eyes blinked open.

“Jarrod?” Heather asked sleepily. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d be gone for a few more days.”

“Something…” Jarrod tried to swallow the lump in his throat. “Something came up.”

Heather lifted her hand to caress his cheek and Jarrod willed himself not to lean into her touch. He took her hand and set it back down in her lap.

“Jarrod, what’s wrong?”

“Everything. It’s… I…” He couldn’t say the words, couldn’t make himself tell her. Instead, he pulled the letter out of his pocket. “We found this in a secret compartment of my father’s desk,” he said as he handed it to her.

Heather took the envelope hesitantly.

“Read it.” Jarrod sunk his head into his hands, unwilling to see the look on her face when she discovered what the letter revealed.

“No,” came the anguished whisper, “no, you can’t be my… it can’t be true.”

Jarrod looked up and met her eyes briefly before looking away again. He couldn’t bear to see the pain and turmoil in the blue eyes so like his own. “I wish to god it wasn’t, but that’s my father’s handwriting and you can’t tell me he’s not describing you.” Jarrod gripped his hands together tightly. “He wrote that the day before he was killed. He didn’t make the effort to find out if he’d fathered a child earlier and then didn’t get the chance to tell us.”

“My mother never said a word,” Heather said, still in shock. “I’d ask sometimes, but she’d never tell me his name.” The last word came out in a choked sob and Jarrod turned to see tears streaming down her face. He couldn’t hold back any longer, he gathered Heather into his arms and held her tightly as his own tears finally overcame him. They held each other close for a long time.

“My mother asked me to find you,” Jarrod said quietly when he found his voice again. “She wants to honour Father’s wishes by acknowledging your birthright as Tom Barkley’s child.”

Heather pulled back and looked at him in disbelief. “I can’t…”

Jarrod wanted nothing more than to continue to hold her close and kiss the pain and tears away. “It’s your decision, Heather,” he told her, his voice heavy with sorrow. “I just…” He shook his head. “I just want you to be happy.”

“How can I?” she said in anguish. “I love you, Jarrod, and I want to spend my life with you, but not as your…” She gulped and finished almost inaudibly, “…sister.” Heather looked up at him with tortured eyes. “God, Jarrod, what have we done?”

“We didn’t know, Heather,” he told her, his own grief and guilt coming to the forefront in the face of hers. “We couldn’t have known. No one can condemn us for secrets that were kept from us, from everyone.”

Heather pulled away and sat on the edge of the settee and Jarrod felt a wall go up between them. “I don’t know if I can do it, Jarrod,” she whispered. “I don’t know if I can go on with you in my life, but not being able to have…” She shook her head.

“You don’t have to do anything tonight,” Jarrod assured her, respecting her space and rising to his feet. “I’ll get a room at the Cosmopolitan.” He glanced at her and knew again how much he’d always love and desire her, despite the knowledge it could never be.

Heather got to her feet as well and new tears trickled down her cheeks as she tugged off the ring on her left hand and handed it to him. “You should take this back.”

Jarrod gazed at the slim circlet of gold that glittered in the lamplight. He took Heather’s hand, placed the ring in her palm and closed her fingers gently around it. “No, Heather, it’s yours. Even though the circumstances have changed, my feelings never will.” He kissed her quickly on the cheek and left abruptly before he did something he’d later regret, leaving Heather standing alone in the study, the symbol of their forbidden love clenched tightly in her fist.


	11. Chapter 11

The ride back to Stockton was quiet. Jarrod was glad he hadn’t brought his private car; being alone with Heather on the four-hour trip would have been unbearable. Even sitting next to her in the first class carriage was hard enough.

Neither of them had gotten much sleep the night before, but in the end, Heather had come to the same conclusion as Jarrod, that trying for some kind of future would be better than none at all. He really didn’t know if he could go through with it, though. Thinking he could be with her as her brother had been easier to believe when she wasn’t sitting next to him, when he wasn’t taking in her scent with every breath. He’d be spending a lot more time in San Francisco or Sacramento, Jarrod thought glumly. There was no way he could be beside her every day.

Heather hung on with tooth and nail to her composure. She’d always prided herself on her self-control, stoically ignoring the distain she’d encountered most of her life. That control was now threatened by the fact that the future she’d dreamed of, that against all hope had finally come true, had been ripped away from her. True, she’d gain a family and a name, but that was a pittance as compared to the all-consuming love she’d found with Jarrod. Heather clasped her hands tightly. She’d promised him and herself she’d go to Stockton and meet her father’s family, but she had once been willing to leave to preserve Jarrod’s future and had to accept it might come to that again.

*

Victoria rubbed the polishing cloth over the gleaming silver candlestick. The wire had arrived that morning from Jarrod to inform them that he had located Heather Thomson and that she would be coming back with him on the noon train. Victoria scrubbed at a non-existent smudge. She really didn’t know what she was going to do when she was confronted with the product of her husband’s affair. Oh, she understood what he had written and was certain he’d told the truth about his loss of memory, but the fact still remained that she would never know if Tom cared for Heather’s mother more than he had his wife or if he came home for duty and not out of love. She’d put on her bravest face for her sons, but in truth, Tom had betrayed his marriage vows, fathered a child on another woman and she wasn’t sure if she could accept that woman’s daughter into her home, let alone her heart.

Victoria sighed. It wasn’t the young woman’s fault, she told herself again. Heather Thomson had the right to know her brothers and sister and the heritage that was as much hers as theirs. Closing her eyes tightly, Victoria wasn’t sure how she was going to tell Audra or Eugene. She would have to send a letter soon, she knew, but it would likely be the hardest thing she’d ever had to write. The letter to her had probably been the hardest thing Tom ever wrote as well.

Hearing the staccato of hooves coming up the drive, Victoria put down the silver and took a deep breath to compose herself. She lifted the light curtain from the French door and saw her eldest son help a lovely blonde woman out of the buggy. Victoria stood straight and tall under the arch to the foyer as the door opened and Jarrod ushered the young woman inside.

“Mother,” he said as he took off his hat, “I’d like you to meet Heather Thomson.”

Victoria was rooted to the spot as she saw echoes of her husband. Heather had the same blue eyes and the same blonde hair, but her features were all her own, Victoria realized as she made herself take a step and extend her hand. She was at least a head shorter than Victoria’s own children, her nose was slightly more pert than Audra’s and she lacked the dimples present in all her children except Jarrod.

“Welcome to our home,” the matriarch said graciously, extending her hand.

“Thank you,” the blonde replied softly. Victoria could feel the tension in the young woman and saw the same tension reflected in her son’s posture. She realized the situation wasn’t any more comfortable for them than it was for her and resolved to do her best to make it easier on everybody. They were all innocent victims; the only real guilt lay with Tom and with Heather’s mother, assuming blame could be placed at all.

“Please, come in and sit,” Victoria invited and Heather and Jarrod followed her into the parlour. Heather sat hesitantly on one of the chairs and Jarrod moved to stand by the fireplace. “Can I get you anything?” the silver haired lady asked. “Tea, coffee?” Heather shook her head and Victoria sat on the settee.

“I take it Jarrod told you about the letter?” At Heather’s nod, Victoria continued. “I hope he let you know that you have a place here with your family if you want it.”

“Yes, he did,” was the soft reply.

Victoria glanced over at her eldest son, who was staring at his hand resting on the mantel. She reflected how difficult it must be for him to find out that his father had faults like any other man. Since his death, the residents of the valley had put Tom Barkley on a pedestal and she knew how hard Jarrod strived to live up to that legacy. Turning back, she put on a smile designed to put Heather at ease. “So, tell me a bit about yourself. How long have you been in San Francisco?’

“Ever since my mother passed away a few months ago,” the blonde replied. “There wasn’t anything for me in Strawberry after that.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your mother,” Victoria said sincerely. She remembered how her children felt after the loss of their father. “And what have you been doing there?”

“I was…” Heather’s voice faltered and she glanced up at Jarrod. “I was working as a housekeeper,” she finally answered.

Jarrod straightened up. “I have some work that needs to be done,” he said abruptly. “Mother,” he went over and gave her a kiss on the cheek, “Heather, if you’ll both excuse me.” Jarrod strode out of the room in the direction of the library.

Victoria was concerned by her son’s obvious disquiet, but her thoughts were interrupted by the door been thrown open and the yell of, “Mother, where are you? Ciego told me Jarrod’s home!”

“Nick,” a quiet voice chastised, “I’m surprised your whole family isn’t deaf.”

Victoria and Heather turned to see the loud cowboy stride into the room hand in hand with his wife.

“Nick, Carrie,” Victoria introduced, “this is Heather Thomson. Heather, my son Nick and his wife Carrie.”

“Hello,” she said politely as she rose to her feet. Carrie came over and gave her a quick hug.

“Welcome to the family,” the brunette said.

Nick extended a hand. “Nice to meet you.” Heather shook it and they all stood there awkwardly until Nick cleared his throat and asked, “Where’s Jarrod?”

“He’s in the library,” Victoria told them as she stood as well. “He said he had some work to do.”

“Huh. Well, then, I guess it’s my job to show my new sister around the place.” He extended one arm to Heather and one to Carrie. “Ladies?” he invited.

*

Jarrod looked up as he heard voices from outside. Past the boarded up window he saw Nick leading Heather and Carrie in the direction of the stables. He hoped Heather would enjoy seeing the horses Nick was so proud of. He sighed as he dragged a hand over his face and looked down again at the paper in front of him. If anyone had asked, he wouldn’t have been able to tell them what it was even about.

Jarrod picked up his glass and frowned when he realized it was empty. Getting up, he walked over to the drink table and poured himself another generous helping of scotch. It wouldn’t really help, but the alcohol would at least numb the pain for a while. If the scotch helped him get through the next couple days until he could leave for the city… well, he’d just do what he had to. Anything to take away the memory of her scent, the sweetness of her lips, the fire that her hands created as they roamed across his skin, the incredible bliss when their bodies joined as one. He gulped down the fiery liquor and refilled it as he tried without success to push away the sound of her laughter and the lilt of her voice, her teasing and intelligence that made him laugh as well. Jarrod sat down heavily behind the desk again and buried his head in his hands, wondering how he’d ever find the strength to go on without her.


	12. Chapter 12

Heather stood, leaning on the fence as she watched the bay stallion run around the corral. She watched the sunlight flash off the rippling muscles under the glossy coat and sighed. She didn’t know what to do. Victoria Barkley had been gracious and pleasant over the past two days, but Heather knew her mere presence made the other woman uncomfortable. Not that Heather could blame her; not many women would endure having the proof of their husband’s affair live under the same roof and Heather had a great deal of respect for the older woman for even tolerating her husband’s illegitimate daughter.

Nick and his wife had been more than welcoming and the thought of the tall, brash cowboy made her smile. He was a brother anyone could be proud of. Her eyes welled up at that thought. Anyone would be proud to have a brother like Jarrod as well; anyone but her, that was. She’d give anything to erase that fact, to wake up from the horrible nightmare and find herself wrapped in her beloved’s arms, to feel his breath against her cheek and his hands on her body, to join with him in ecstasy as he entered her and took her to unimaginable heights. And it wasn’t just the sex, it was the long hours of talking about anything and everything, the way her heart fluttered at that dashing smile and those incredible blue eyes, the way he made her feel just knowing how much he cared for and desired her.

Heather angrily wiped away a tear. _It’s just not fair!_ she yelled silently at the world around her. If her mother had only told her; everyone in the valley knew the Barkleys, was it so inconceivable that she might one day meet one of her brothers? That a young, beautiful woman might be attracted to a handsome, eligible man? _Damn you, Mama, and damn you, Tom Barkley!_ she cursed silently. _And damn anyone else who knew!_

Heather put her head on her arms and wept. She didn’t know how much longer she could take being around Jarrod, feeling the way she felt. She had hoped the knowledge he was her brother would dampen some of the flames, but her passion for him burned as brightly as it ever did. She knew he was feeling it, too; it was impossible for her not to notice the sadness and longing that he tried to disguise whenever he looked at her, emotions she was sure were reflected back. Heather knew Jarrod was also drinking too much and she certainly couldn’t blame him.

She had to leave, Heather told herself, for Jarrod’s sake if not for her own. The situation was tearing both of them apart and Heather also regretted the pain she was causing Jarrod’s mother. It wasn’t hard to see how much Victoria’s sons loved and respected her. Even though Heather was angry at her, she still loved her own mama and wouldn’t want anyone to inflict that sort of sorrow on her. It wasn’t right that she should intrude on what was such a happy family.

Tonight, she told herself, after everyone’s asleep. Heather blinked back another tear, knowing she was running away again but she couldn’t think of any other solution.

*

Jarrod walked into the shadowed barn, thinking maybe he’d take a ride and try to get his mind off things since he couldn’t sleep anyway. Hearing sobbing, he followed the sounds until he came upon Heather leaning against the wall, crying like her heart was breaking. And it probably was, he reflected, if his own was any indication. He also saw the saddled horse beside her.

“Heather?” he said softly, placing a hand on her back. She turned and flung herself into his arms and he held her tightly.

“I can’t do this, Jarrod,” she sobbed. “I can’t be around you, knowing we can never be together, knowing the only thing you can ever be to me is my brother.” With heartbreak in her voice, she admitted, “I was going to leave. I didn’t know what else to do.”

Jarrod stroked her hair as he fought back tears of his own. “I know, baby, I know.”

Heather lifted her tear-streaked face and Jarrod gently kissed the wetness off her cheeks. The kisses didn’t stay gentle for long, the passion they’d been fighting overtook them as Jarrod’s lips found Heather’s, plundering them ruthlessly as he lifted her skirts and she fumbled with the buttons of his pants. Up against the wall, their coupling was frantic, almost desperate and when they collapsed onto the floor after their climax, Jarrod continued to hold Heather close.

“I can’t stay, Jarrod,” she said softly, “not like this.”

“I know,” he whispered, burrowing his face in her silky hair. It was wrong, what they’d just done, but he would never truly think of her as his sister, that accident of fate that made a mockery of everything they shared and meant to each other. “If only we’d never found that damn letter.” Jarrod held her tightly, and as he took solace in the comfort of her body next to his, Jarrod knew he couldn’t let her go. “I need you, Heather,” he whispered. “I can’t let you go. Even if it means we have to leave here, I need to be with you. As long as that’s what you want, too.”

Heather was silent and Jarrod’s heart constricted painfully. He wouldn’t blame her if she couldn’t continue their relationship. If that happened, he’d just have to find a way to go on alone, love ripped away from him once again.

“I can’t ask you to leave your family for me,” she protested, not moving out of the circle of his arms.

“You’re not asking, I’m offering,” he corrected. “And it wouldn’t be just for you; don’t you think I’d get something out of it, too?” He lifted her chin with a finger and met her eyes.

Heather gave him a soft smile. “I love you, Jarrod. It would be different if we’d met knowing we shared a father, or if we’d grown up together, but we didn’t.”

Jarrod leaned in and kissed her tenderly. “Does that mean you’ll still marry me, Heather Thomson?”

Heather nodded. “Yes, Jarrod Barkley, it does.”

*

Nick turned away from the window after watching Jarrod and Heather make their way back into the house, arms close around each other. He slid back into bed beside his wife and the dark rancher’s mind travelled to what he’d just seen. He’d gotten up to check on a mare that was close to foaling and when he entered the barn, he saw them. He’d been frozen in shock, the looks and body language he’d seen between Jarrod and Heather suddenly making sense.

Heather was the woman Jarrod had been seeing, the woman who finally made his brother happy after the sudden loss of his wife over a year before. Nick hadn’t made a sound and quickly slipped out of the barn, going back to his room to stare out the window, trying to come to terms with the revelation until he saw them again.

It was just plain wrong, his mind told him. Heather was their sister, dammit, and a man just didn’t do things like that with his sister. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair and the woman beside him stirred. Nick paused, wondering if Carrie was going to wake up, but she just snuggled close to his side and her breathing grew deep and even.

The disturbing thought hit him out of the blue. What if it had been her? What if it had been his love that they found out was their father’s illegitimate daughter? Could he give her up if he suddenly found out he was her brother?

He softly brushed the silky brown hair that lay across her shoulder. His mind told him he could never continue the relationship in that situation, but his heart told him otherwise. Carrie was a part of his soul and he knew deep down he would never give her up, no matter what secrets came to light. If Jarrod and Heather’s love came even close to that intensity, he couldn’t condemn his brother for feeling the same way. Nick drew his wife even closer, but was unable to sleep, knowing the havoc that could be released on his family with the coming of dawn.

*

The tension around the breakfast table was an almost tangible thing and Victoria wondered what was going on. Both Jarrod and Heather seemed more relaxed and more on edge at the same time. Nick steadfastly studied his plate and Carrie reached over from time to time to put a reassuring hand on his arm. About to demand some answers, Victoria was prevented from speaking when Jarrod abruptly rose to his feet.

“If you don’t mind,” he said in a steady baritone, “I’d like everyone to join me in the library. There is something very important that I, and Heather, need to tell you.”

Nick locked his eyes with Jarrod’s and nodded slowly as Carrie gave an encouraging smile. Victoria carefully set down her napkin. A feeling of dread took up residence in the pit of her stomach as she stood. “Of course, dear.”

Jarrod offered Heather his arm and the rest of the family followed them to the library. Victoria’s uneasy feeling intensified as Jarrod led Heather over to the fireplace and drew her next him with an arm around her waist.

“Just before we found that letter,” he said, looking at each of them before turning his gaze on the woman beside him, “I asked Heather to marry me and she said yes.” Jarrod looked back at his family, defiance obvious in every part of him. “I love her,” he told them bluntly. “Father made a stupid mistake and we’re all paying for it in one way or another, but Heather and I aren’t going to pay with our happiness.”

Victoria stared at them in shock. She couldn’t speak as she watched Nick go up to his brother, clap him on the shoulder and shake his hand. “You deserve to be happy, Jarrod. You, too, Heather.” She could barely take in the stunned and relieved expressions on Jarrod and Heather’s faces as Carrie embraced them both.

“Nick knew, and we talked this morning,” Nick’s wife said. “I don’t know if I completely agree, but fortunately I’m not in your situation, so I can’t actually say what I would do. I can’t condemn someone unless I’ve been in their shoes.”

Tears were evident on both faces as Jarrod pulled Heather closer. “Thank you, both of you. You can’t know what this means to us,” he said. They all then looked to Victoria.

The silver-haired matriarch was aghast. “Jarrod, she’s your father’s daughter, for God’s sake! I know we offered her a place in this family, but this…” She shook her head vehemently. “You have to know how wrong this is! You have to know I can never accept this!”

“Mother, Jarrod and Heather were engaged before he found out who she was!” Nick defended his brother. “You can’t just turn off feelings like that!”

“Maybe not, but that doesn’t mean he has to act on them!” she argued vehemently. “It’s wrong, morally, legally and ethically and I can’t condone it!” Victoria’s voice broke as she surged to her feet. Nick moved to comfort her, but she pushed him away. “You’re not the man I thought I raised, Jarrod. I never thought I’d ever be ashamed of any of my children, but now…” She picked up her skirt and fled to the sanctuary of her room.

*

 

Victoria sat in her room, head in her hands. Life must be playing a cruel joke on her, she told herself. There was no way her morally upright, principled son could be thinking of marrying his sister. It was wrong, it was against the laws of God and man and she couldn’t understand it. No, they hadn’t known at the beginning, but how could someone even be attracted to their sibling in the first place? Surely Fate wasn’t that cruel. She heard a soft tap on the door but didn’t acknowledge it. She heard the soft footsteps and eventually looked up as a fragrant cup of tea was set in front of her.

“I thought you could use this, Missus Barkley,” said her long-time friend.

“Thank you, Silas.”

Silas stood for a moment as Victoria stared unseeing at the cup. “I can’t help but know what’s been going on with Mr. Jarrod and Miss Heather,” he started. “I know it’s not my place to interfere, but I’m here for you if you need a friendly ear.”

Victoria smiled wanly. “Of course it’s your place, my friend,” she told him, “but I don’t really know what to say.”

Silas pulled out the stool from the vanity and sat beside her. “Before I was a free man,” he started, “I worked cleaning and cooking in my master’s house. There were lots of us there, working in the fields, in the house, in the barn. Slaves changed hands all the time and it wasn’t unusual for someone to have two or three different masters. They had no problem with selling off families piecemeal, mothers, fathers, even young’uns.”

He shook his head. “It was hard to form attachments, never knowing how long you’d have, but folks still did.” Silas looked up at her. “One never knew who was kin and who wasn’t, you just had to trust in the goodness of God, just like our two young folks did. But sometimes you found out differently.” He put his weathered brown hand on her small white one. “I could never believe that He would let something like that happen, only to condemn it later. No, sir, I don’t believe He would do something like that at all. If you ask me, I don’t think that letter of Mr. Tom’s was ever meant to be found.”

Silas patted Victoria’s hand before he got up and exited the room as quietly as he had entered, leaving Victoria alone with her thoughts.


	13. Chapter 13

Victoria spent the next few hours in her room before venturing out. She had no idea what she was going to say to Jarrod, but she did know that they had to talk. She found him in the library in front of the bookcase, inspecting volumes before packing them in a crate. “Jarrod, what are you doing?”

Jarrod turned, a leather-bound book in his hands and eyes downcast. “I’m packing, Mother,” he said quietly. When she didn’t say anything right away, he added, “Heather and I are going away; we don’t want to cause any more problems than we already have.” He placed the book in the crate. “I’m sorry, Mother, I never wanted to hurt you.”

“Just like I never wanted to hurt you.” Jarrod’s eyes met hers and Victoria saw the glint of held-back tears. She walked up to him and reached up to caress his cheek. “I love you, Jarrod, so much. I just…” She shook her head and Jarrod took her hand in his.

“I know,” he said sadly. “I know how this looks and believe me, I know how wrong it all is. I’ve followed my head for so long, but this time I have to follow my heart.” Jarrod walked over to the desk and picked up the yellowed paper sitting there. “Here.” He handed it to her and Victoria recognized the letter Tom had written six years ago. “I won’t need this.”

Victoria looked down. It was incredible that a simple piece of paper could cause so much heartache to her family. A portion of the faith in her husband had been destroyed and his lies of omission were tearing her family apart even further. She looked back up to her son, her first-born, as he slowly gathered up the belongings of a lifetime. Jarrod had always stood by her; his strong arms had always been there to comfort her, from the loss of one of his sisters as a small infant when he was just a child himself, to supporting her through her grief when Tom had been gunned down. How could she not be there for him when he needed her? She had failed him when Beth was killed by not stopping him from going after his wife’s murderer and now she was failing him again. But how could she support him in something like this?

 _Because he’s your son,_ a small voice whispered. _Because he’s a fair and just man, a man of principles and integrity ingrained into his very being by his father and his mother. Because you love him._

Victoria looked back at the letter she held. Slowly, deliberately, she went over to Jarrod’s desk, picked up a match and struck it. She held the small flame to the corner of the paper and watched it crumble into a pile of ash on the blotter of the desk. “I don’t need it, either.”

Jarrod stared at her and this time, a tear did trickle down his cheek. “Mother…” he whispered.

“I love you, Jarrod,” she told him as she put her arms around him and rested her head on his chest. “And I will support you in whatever you decide to do.”

“Thank you, Mother,” he choked out and buried his face in her hair. “I love you, too.”

*

Only the six of them knew about Tom’s letter, but they had still agonized about declaring no knowledge of a reason the couple shouldn’t wed. However, Heather had never been legally acknowledged, so legally, there was no reason that Jarrod and Heather couldn’t be married. It was a matter of semantics, but as Nick half joked, lawyers dealt in semantics all the time, so it really shouldn’t be any different.

They were joined in a small ceremony, officiated by Judge Adam Cross, a long time family friend of the Barkleys. The couple drank to the family’s toasts and accepted their well-wishes before heading into town and the suite Jarrod had reserved for the wedding night.

After unlocking the door to the room, Jarrod lifted Heather into his arms. “Am I allowed to do this now?” he teased as he kicked the door shut behind them. Heather just laughed and pulled his head down so she could kiss him.

“There are other things I’d rather you do,” she murmured. Jarrod carried her into the bedroom and gently set her on her feet.

“Turn around,” he said huskily. Heather did as she was asked and Jarrod slowly began to undo the buttons of her gown. She shivered as he pushed it off her shoulders and the silk slithered to the floor. Jarrod reached around and unhooked her corset that soon joined the dress. He kissed and nibbled on her shoulders as his hands kneaded the soft mounds of her breasts beneath the thin chemise. Heather leaned back against his chest and Jarrod nipped at her exposed neck. He knew it should feel wrong, but nothing was wrong when he was with Heather. “I love you,” he breathed in her ear.

“I love you, Jarrod,” she whispered back. Jarrod slipped his hands under the chemise and pulled it over her head. His hands roamed down across her stomach and untied the drawstring of her drawers to let them pool around her feet. He caressed the curve of her hips as she stepped out of her garments and twisted to face him.

It was her turn to disrobe him and she started by undoing his tie, pushing off his jacket and unfastening his vest so she could get at the buttons of his shirt. Her fingers played with the light dusting of hair on his chest and she rubbed her thumbs across his taut nipples. Jarrod unfastened his cufflinks and let them drop to the floor as Heather pushed everything off his shoulders and he helped by shrugging his arms out of the sleeves.

Heather kissed her way down his chest and belly as her hands worked the buttons of his pants. Taking his straining member in her mouth when it was released, Heather ran her tongue along the shaft and swirled it around the head. Jarrod closed his eyes and let her tongue work its magic as waves of pleasure rushed through him.

But that wasn’t how he wanted her. Jarrod pulled Heather to her feet and pushed her back across the bed. She moved back until her head was on the pillow as he finished taking off his pants and boots. Jarrod knelt between her thighs and began kissing her, starting at her navel and working his way up her ribs to her breasts. He took the left one in his mouth and sucked hard before biting it gently. Heather moaned and Jarrod’s hand took its place as his mouth moved to perform the same action on the other side. Leaving her breast, his hand travelled down until it reached her hot cleft and Jarrod rubbed her clit as his fingers pushed into her. Heather slid a hand between them and grabbed his pulsing shaft. She stroked it a few times before guiding it to her center and Jarrod obligingly moved his hand out of the way.

“How do you want it, love?’ he murmured into her ear when he felt the tip of his penis reach her entrance.

“Hard and fast, Jarrod,” she whispered. “Fill me up and make me scream.”

Jarrod closed his eyes and let himself go. His hips thrust with wild abandon and Heather writhed beneath him as he fucked her with an intensity he’d never imagined. She was his, mind, body and soul, and he was hers. Circumstances of birth didn’t matter; in the instant of his climax he knew that they were bound together through eternity by something that couldn’t be defined by anything other than by one simple word.

That word was love.


End file.
